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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


«• 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions 


Institut  Canadian  de  microraproductions  historiquas 


1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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D 


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n 

D 
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Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagde 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculie 


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Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


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filmage. 


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par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  ^mpreinte 
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la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


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TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

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beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  ^^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmis  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  A  partir 
de  I'angle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

,-• 


STUDIES 


IN   THE 


SOUTH    AND   WEST 


WITH  COMMENTS  ON  CANADA 


BY 


CHARLES  DUDLEY  AVARNER 

AUTHOR  OF  "THEm  PILORIMAGF."  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
HARPER   .t    BROTHERS,   FRANKLIN   SQUARE 

1889 


•M 


Copyright,  1889,  l,y  IIarpkr  &  UnoTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


To  Henry  ^l.  Alden,  Esq.,  Editor  of  Harper's  Monthly  : 

My  dear  Mr.  Alden,— It  was  at  your  suggestion  that  tliesc 
Studies  were  undertaken ;  all  of  them  passed  under  your  eye, 
except  "Society  in  the  Ne\v  South,"  which  appeared  in  the 
Aew  Princeton  Itcvicin.  The  object  was  not  to  present  u  com- 
prehensive account  of  the  country  South  and  West — which 
would  have  been  impossible  in  the  time  and  space  given— but 
to  note  certain  representative  developments,  tendencies,  and 
dispositions,  the  communication  of  which  would  lead  to  a  bet- 
ter understanding  between  different  sections.  The  subjects 
chosen  embrace  by  no  means  all  that  is  important  and  interest- 
ing, but  it  is  believed  that  they  are  fairly  representative.  The 
strongest  impression  produced  upon  the  writer  in  making  these 
Studies  was  that  the  prosperous  life  of  the  Union  depends  upon 
the  life  and  dignity  of  the  individual  States. 

C.  D.  W. 


CONTENTS. 


I'AliK 

I.    IMPUESSIOXS  OF  THE  SOUTH.      IN   1885 3 

11.    SOCIETY  IN  THE  NEW  SOUTH 18 

III.  NEW  ORLE.\NS 89 

IV.  A  VOUDOO   DANCE 64 

V.    THE  ACADIAN  LAND 75 

VI.   THE  SOUTH  ItEVISITED.      IN   1887 09 

Vir.    A  FAU  AND  FAIU  COUNTRY 118 

VIII.    ECONOMIC     AND     SOCIAL     TOPICS.       MINNESOTA     AND 

WISCONSIN 151 

IX.    CHICAGO— FIRST  P.^PER 176 

X.   CHICAGO— SECOND  PAPER 203 

XL    THREE   CAPITALS— SPRINGFIELD,  INDIANAPOLIS,  CO- 
LUMBUS        233 

XII.   CINCINNATI  AND  LOUISVILLE 263 

XIII.  MEMPHIS  AND  LITTLE  ROCK 293 

XIV.  ST.  LOUIS  AND  KANSAS  CITY 318 

XV.    KENTUCKY 359 

COMMENTS  ON  CANADA 405 


SOUTH  AND  WEST. 


i 


I. 


IMPREFrflONS  OF  THE  SOUTH. 


IN  188.5. 

It  is  borne  in  upon  me,  as  the  Friends  would  say, 
that  I  ought  to  bear  my  testimony  of  certain  impres- 
sions made  by  a  recent  visit  to  the  Gulf  States.  In 
doing  this  I  am  aware  that  I  shall  be  under  the  suspi- 
cion of  having  received  kindness  and  hospitality,  and 
of  forming  opinions  upon  a  brief  sojourn.  Both  these 
facts  must  bo  confessed,  and  allowed  their  due  weight 
in  discrediting  what  I  have  to  say.  A  month  of  my 
short  visit  was  given  to  New  Orleans  in  the  spring, 
during  the  Exposition,  and  these  impressions  are  main- 
Iv  of  Louisiana. 

The  first  general  impression  made  was  that  the  war 
is  over  in  s})irit  as  well  as  in  deed.  The  thoughts  of 
the  people  are  not  upon  the  war,  not  much  uj)on  the 
past  at  all,  except  as  their  losses  remind  them  of  it, 
but  upon  the  future,  upon  business,  a  revival  of  trade, 
upon  education,  and  adjustment  to  the  new  state  of 
thin«]^s.  The  thoughts  are  not  much  uj)on  j)olitics  'hi- 
ther, or  upon  offices  ;  certainly  they  are  not  turned 
mere  in  this  direction  than  the  thoughts  of  i)eople  at 
the  North  are.  When  we  read  a  despatch  which  de- 
clares that  there  is  immense  dissatisfaction  through- 
out Arkansas  because  offices  are  not  dealt  out  more 
liberally  to  it,  we  may  know  that  the  case  is  exactly 


h'J^ 


Rl 


'■'1 


4t  South  and  West. 

what  it  is  in,  say,  Wisconsin  —  that  a  few  political 
managers  are  grumbling,  and  that  the  great  body  of 
the  people  are  indifferent,  perhaps  too  indifferent,  to 
the  distribution  of  offices. 

Undoubtedly  immense  satisfaction  was  felt  at  the 
election  of  Mr.  Cleveland,  and  elation  of  triumph  in 
the  belief  that  now  the  party  which  had  been  largely 
a  non- participant  in  Federal  affairs  would  have  a 
large  share  and  weight  in  the  administration.  With 
this  went,  however,  a  new  feeling  of  responsibility,  of 
a  stake  in  the  country,  that  manifested  itself  at  once 
in  attachment  to  the  Union  as  the  common  possession 
of  all  sections.  I  feel  sure  that  Louisiana,  for  in- 
stance, was  never  in  its  whole  history,  from  the  day 
of  the  Jefferson  purchase,  so''consciously  loyal  to  the 
United  States  as  it  is  to-day.  I  have  believed  that 
for  the  past  ten  years  there  has  been  growing  in  this 
country  a  stronger  feeling  of  nationality — a  distinct 
American  historic  consciousness  —  and  nowhere  else 
has  it  developed  so  rapidly  of  late  as  at  the  South.  I 
am  convinced  that  this  is  a  genuine  development  of 
attachment  to  the  Union  and  of  pride  in  the  nation, 
and  not  in  any  respect  a  political  movement  for  un- 
worthy purposes.  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  necessary,  for 
the  sake  of  any  lingering  prejudice  at  the  North,  to 
say  this.  IJut  it  is  time  that  sober,  thoughtful,  patri- 
otic people  at  the  North  should  quit  representing  the 
desire  for  office  at  the  South  as  a  desire  to  get  into 
the  Government  saddle  and  ride  again  with  a  "  rebel " 
impulse.  It  would  be,  indeed,  a  discouraging  fact  if 
any  considerable  portion  of  the  South  held  aloof  in 
sullenness  from  Federal  affairs.  Nor  is  it  any  just 
cause  either  of  reproach  or  of  uneasiness  that  men 


Impressions  of  the  South.  0 

who  were  prominent  in  the  war  of  tlie  rebellion  should 
be  prominent  now  in  official  positions,  for  with  a  few 
exceptions  the  worth  and  weight  of  the  South  went 
into  the  war.  It  would  be  idle  to  discuss  the  question 
whether  the  masses  of  the  South  were  not  dragooned 
into  the  Avar  by  the  politicians;  it  is  sufficient  to  rec- 
ognize the  fact  that  it  became  practically,  by  one 
means  or  another,  a  unanimous  revolt. 

One  of  the  strongest  impressions  made  upon  a 
Northerner  Avho  visits  the  extreme  South  now,  having 
been  familiar  with  it  only  by  report,  is  the  extent  to 
which  it  suffered  in  the  war.  Of  course  there  M'as 
extravagance  and  there  were  impending  bankruptcies 
before  the  war,  debt,  and  methods  of  business  inher- 
ently vicious,  and  no  doubt  the  war  is  charged  Avith 
many  losses  which  would  have  come  without  it,  just 
as  in  every  crisis  half  the  failures  wrongfully  accuse 
the  crisis.  Yet,  with  all  allowance  for  these  things, 
the  fact  remains  that  the  war  practically  wiped  out 
personal  property  and  the  means  of  livelihood.  The 
completeness  of  this  loss  and  disaster  never  came 
home  to  me  before.  In  some  cases  the  picture  of  the 
ante  helium  civilization  is  more  roseate  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  lost  everything  than  cool  observation  of 
it  would  justify.  But  conceding  this,  the  actual  dis- 
aster needs  no  embellishment  of  the  imagination.  It 
seems  to  me,  in  the  reverse,  that  the  Southern  people 
do  not  appreciate  the  sacrifices  the  North  made  for 
the  Union.  They  do  not,  I  think,  realize  the  fact  that 
the  North  put  into  the  war  its  best  blood,  that  every 
battle  brought  mourning  into  our  households,  and 
filled  our  churches  day  by  day  and  year  by  year  with 
the  black  garments  of  bereavement ;  nor  did  they 


I'  I'l 


6  Soicth  and  West. 

ever  understand  the  tearful  enthusiasm  for  the  Union 
and  the  flag,  and  the  unselfish  devotion  that  underlay 
all  the  self-sacrifice.  Some  time  the  Southern  people 
will  know  that  it  was  love  for  the  Union,  and  not 
hatred  of  the  South,  that  made  heroes  of  the  men 
and  angels  of  renunciation  of  the  women. 

Yes,  say  our  Southern  friends,  we  can  believe  that 
you  lost  dear  ones  and  were  in  mourning;  but,  after 
all,  the  North  was  prosperous ;  you  grew  rich ;  and 
when  the  war  ended,  life  went  on  in  the  fulness  of 
material  prosperity.  AV^e  lost  not  only  our  friends 
and  relatives,  fathers,  sons,  brothers,  till  there  was 
scarcely  a  household  that  was  not  broken  up,  we  lost 
not  only  the  cause  on  which  we  had  set  our  hearts, 
and  for  which  we  had  suffered  privation  and  hard- 
ship, were  fugitives  and  wanderers,  and  endured  the 
bitterness  of  defeat  at  the  end,  but  our  property  was 
gone,  we  Avere  stripped,  with  scarcely  a  home,  and  the 
whole  of  life  had  to  be  begun  over  again,  under  all 
the  disadvantage  of  a  sudden  social  revolution. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  upon  this  or  to  heighten 
it,  but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  when  we  observe  the 
temper  of  the  South,  and  especially  when  we  are  look- 
ing for  remaining  bitterness,  and  the  wonder  to  me  is 
that  after  so  short  a  space  of  time  there  is  remaining 
so  little  of  resentment  or  of  bitter  feeling  over  loss 
and  discomfiture.  I  believe  there  is  not  in  history 
any  parallel  to  it.  Every  American  must  take  pride 
in  the  fact  that  Americans  have  so  risen  superior  to 
circumstances,  and  come  out  of  trials  that  thoroughly 
threshed  and  winnowed  soul  and  body  in  a  temper 
so  gentle  and  a  spirit  so  noble.  It  is  good  stuff  that 
can  endure  a  test  of  this  kind. 


Impressions  of  the  South.  7 

A  lady,  whose  family  sustained  all  the  losses  that 
were  possible  in  tlie  war,  said  to  me — and  she  said 
only  what  several  others  said  in  substance — "  We  are 
going  to  get  more  out  of  this  war  than  you  at  the 
North,  because  we  suffered  more.  We  were  drawn 
out  of  ourselves  in  sacrifices,  and  were  drawn  together 
in  a  tenderer  feeling  of  humanity ;  I  do  believe  we 
were  chastened  into  a  higher  and  purer  spirit." 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  The  people  who 
thus  recognize  the  moral  training  of  adversit}'^  and  its 
effects  upon  character,  and  who  are  glad  that  slavery 
is  gone,  and  believe  that  a  new  and  better  era  for  the 
South  is  at  hand,  would  not  for  a  moment  put  them- 
selves in  an  attitude  of  apology  for  the  part  they  took 
in  the  war,  nor  confess  that  they  were  wrong,  nor  join 
in  any  denunciation  of  the  leaders  they  followed  to 
their  sorrow.  They  simply  put  the  past  behind  them, 
so  far  as  the  conduct  of  the  present  life  is  concerned. 
They  do  not  propose  to  stamp  upon  memories  that 
are  tender  and  sacred,  and  they  cherish  certain  senti- 
ments which  are  to  them  loj'alty  to  their  past  and  to 
the  great  passionate  experiences  of  their  lives.  AV^hen 
a  woman,  who  enlisted  by  the  consent  of  Jeff  Davis, 
whose  name  api)eared  for  four  years  upon  the  rolls, 
and  who  endured  all  the  perils  and  hardships  of  the 
conflict  as  a  tield-nurse,  speaks  of  "President"  Davis, 
what  does  it  mean  ?  It  is  only  a  sentiment.  This 
heroine  of  the  Avar  on  the  wrong  side  had  in  the  Ex- 
position a  tent,  where  the  veterans  of  the  Confederacy 
recorded  their  names.  On  one  side,  at  the  back  of 
the  tent,  was  a  table  piled  with  touching  relics  of  the 
war,  and  above  it  a  portrait  of  Robert  E.  Lee,  wreath- 
ed in.  immortelles.     It  was  surely  a  harmless  shrine. 


8 


South  and  West. 


On  the  other  side  was  also  a  table,  piled  with  fruit 
and  cereals — not  relics,  but  signs  of  prosperity  and 
peace — and  above  it  a  portrait  of  Ulysses  S.  Grant. 
Here  was  the  sentiment,  cherished  with  an  aching 
heart  maybe,  and  here  was  the  fact  of  the  Union  and 
the  future. 

Another  strong  impression  made  upon  the  visitor 
is,  as  I  said,  that  the  South  has  entirely  put  the  past 
behind  it,  and  is  devoting  itself  to  the  work  of  re- 
building on  new  foundations.  There  is  no  reluctance 
to  talk  about  the  war,  or  to  discuss  its  conduct  and 
what  might  have  been.  But  all  this  is  historic.  It 
engenders  no  heat.  The  mind  of  the  South  to-day  is 
on  the  development  of  its  resources,  upon  the  rehabili- 
tation of  its  affairs.  I  think  it  is  rather  more  con- 
cerned about  national  prosperity  than  it  is  about  the 
great  problem  of  the  negro — but  I  will  refer  to  this 
further  on.  There  goes  with  this  interest  in  material 
development  the  same  interest  in  the  general  prosper- 
ity of  the  country  that  exists  at  the  North — the  anx- 
iety that  the  country  should  prosper,  acquit  itself 
well,  and  stand  well  with  the  other  nations.  There 
is,  of  course,  a  sectional  feeling — as  to  tariff,  as  to  in- 
ternal improvements — but  I  do  not  think  the  Southern 
States  are  any  more  anxious  to  get  things  for  them- 
selves out  of  the  Federal  Government  than  the  North- 
ern States  arc.  That  the  most  extreme  of  Southern 
politicians  have  any  sinister  purpose  (any  more  than 
any  of  the  Northern  "  rings  "  on  either  side  have)  in 
wanting  to  "  rule  "  the  country,  is,  in  my  humble  opin- 
ion, only  a  chimera  evoked  to  make  political  capital. 

Illustrations  in  point  as  to  the  absolute  subsidence 
of  hostile  intention  (this  phrase  I  know  will  sound 


Impresaiona  of  the  South, 


9 


queer  in  the  South),  and  the  laying  aside  of  bitterness 
for  the  past,  are  not  necessary  in  the  presence  of  a 
strong  general  impression,  but  they  might  be  given  in 
great  number.  I  note  one  that  was  significant  from 
its  origin,  remembering,  what  is  well  known,  that 
women  and  clergymen  are  always  the  last  to  experi- 
ence subsidence  of  hostile  feeling  after  a  civil  war. 
On  the  Confederate  Decoration  Day  in  New  Orleans 
I  was  standing  near  the  Confederate  monument  in 
one  of  the  cemeteries  when  the  veterans  marched  in 
to  decorate  it.  First  came  the  veterans  of  the  Armv 
of  Virginia,  last  those  of  the  Array  of  Tennessee,  and 
between  them  the  veterans  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic,  Union  soldiers  now  living  in  Louisiana.  I 
stood  beside  a  lady  whose  name,  if  I  mentioned  it, 
would  be  recognized  as  representative  of  a  family 
which  was  as  conspicuous,  and  did  as  much  and  lost 
as  much,  as  any  other  in  the  war — a  family  that  would 
be  popularly  supposed  to  cherish  unrelenting  feelings. 
As  the  veterans,  some  of  them  on  crutches,  many  of 
them  with  empty  sleeves,  grouped  themselves  about 
the  monument,  we  remarked  upon  the  sight  as  a 
touching  one,  and  I  said:  "I  see  you  have  no  address 
on  Decoration  Day.  At  the  North  we  still  keep  up 
the  custom."  "No,"  she  replied;  "we  have  given  it 
up.  So  many  imprudent  things  were  said  that  we 
thought  best  to  discontinue  the  address."  And  then, 
after  a  pause,  she  added,  thoughtfully:  "  Each  side  did 
the  best  it  could  ;  it  is  all  over  and  done  with,  and 
let's  have  an  end  of  it."  In  the  mouth  of  the  lady 
who  uttered  it,  the  remark  was  very  significant,  but 
it  expresses,  I  am  firmly  convinced,  the  feeling  of  the 
South. 


10 


South  and  West. 


Of  course  the  South  will  build  monuments  to  its 
heroes,  and  weep  over  their  graves,  and  live  upon  the 
memory  of  their  devotion  and  genius.  In  Heaven's 
name,  Avhy  shouldn't  it  ?  Is  human  nature  itself  to 
be  changed  in  twenty  years  ? 

A  long  chapter  might  be  written  upon  the  dis-like- 
ness  of  North  and  South,  the  difference  in  education, 
in  training,  in  mental  inheritances,  the  misapprehen- 
Bions,  radical  and  very  singular  to  us,  of  the  civiliza- 
tion of  the  North.  We  must  recognize  certain  historic 
facts,  not  onlv  the  eifect  of  the  institution  of  slaverv, 
but  other  facts  in  Soutliern  development.  Suppose 
we  say  that  an  unreasonable  prejudice  exists,  or  did 
exist,  about  the  people  of  the  North.  That  prejudice 
is  a  historic  fact,  of  which  the  statesman  nust  take 
account.  It  enters  into  the  question  of  the  time 
needed  to  effect  the  revolution  now  in  progress. 
There  are  prejmdices  in  the  North  about  the  South  as 
well.  We  admit  their  existence.  But  what  impresses 
me  is  the  rapidity  with  which  they  are  disappearing 
in  the  South.  Knowing  what  human  nature  is,  it 
seems  incredible  that  they  could  have  subsided  so 
rapidly.  Enougli  remain  for  national  variety,  and 
enough  will  remain  for  purposes  of  social  badinage, 
but  common  interests  in  the  country  and  in  making 
money  are  melting  them  away  very  fast.  So  far  as 
loyalty  to  the  Government  is  concerned,  I  am  not 
authorized  to  say  that  it  is  as  deeply  rooted  in  the 
South  as  in  the  North,  but  it  is  expressed  as  vividly, 
and  felt  with  a  good  deal  of  fresh  enthusiasm.  The 
"American"  sentiment,  pride  in  this  as  the  most 
glorious  of  all  lands,  is  genuine,  and  amounts  to  en- 
thusiasm with  many  who  would  in  an  argument  glory 


# 


-.•» 


Impressiona  of  the  South. 


11 


ill  their  rebellion.  "We  had  more  loyalty  to  our 
States  than  you  liad,"  said  one  lady,  "  and  we  have 
transferred  it  to  the  whole  country." 

But  the  negro?  Granting  that  the  South  is  loyal 
enough,  wishes  never  another  rebellion,  and  is  satisfied 
to  be  rid  of  slavery,  do  not  the  people  intend  to  keep 
the  negroes  practically  a  servile  class,  slaves  in  all  but 
the  name,  and  to  defeat  by  chicanery  or  by  force  the 
legitimate  results  of  the  war  and  of  enfranchisement  ? 
This  is  a  very  large  question,  and  cannot  be  discussed 
in  my  limits.  If  I  were  to  say  what  my  impression  is, 
it  would  be  about  this  :  the  South  is  quite  as  much 
perplexed  by  the  negro  problem  as  the  North  is,  and 
is  very  much  disposed  to  await  developments,  and  to 
let  time  solve  it.  One  thing,  however,  must  be  ad- 
mitted in  all  this  discussion.  The  Southerners  will 
not  permit  such  Legislatures  as  those  assembled  once 
in  Louisiana  and  South  Carolina  to  rule  them  again. 
"  Will  you  disfranchise  the  blacks  by  management  or 
by  force?"  "  Well,  what  would  you  do  in  Ohio  or  in 
Connecticut  ?  Would  you  be  ruled  by  a  lot  of  igno- 
rant field-hands  allied  with  a  gang  of  plunderers  ?" 

In  looking  at  this  question  from  a  Northern  point 
of  view  we  have  to  keep  in  mind  two  things  :  first, 
the  Federal  Government  imposed  colored  suffrage 
without  any  educational  qualification  —  a  hazardous 
experiment ;  in  the  second  place,  it  has  handed  over 
the  control  of  the  colored  people  in  each  State  to 
the  State,  under  the  Constitution,  as  completely  in 
Louisiana  as  in  New  York.  The  responsibility  is  on 
Louisiana.  The  North  cannot  relieve  her  of  it,  and 
it  cannot  interfere,  except  by  ways  provided  in  the 
Constitution.    In  the  South,  where  fear  of  a  legislative 


1    !  , 


% 


J. 


12 


South  and  West 


domination  has  gone,  the  feeling  between  the  two 
races  is  that  of  amity  and  mutual  help.  This  is,  I 
think,  especially  true  in  Louisiana.  The  Southerners 
never  have  forgotten  the  loyalty  of  the  slaves  during 
the  war,  the  security  with  which  the  white  families 
dwelt  in  the  midst  of  a  black  population  while  all  the 
white  men  were  absent  in  the  field  ;  they  often  refer 
to  this.  It  touches  with  tenderness  the  new  relation 
of  the  races.  I  think  there  is  generally  in  the  South 
a  feeling  of  good-will  towards  the  negroes,  a  desire 
that  they  should  develop  into  true  manhood  and 
womanhood.  Undeniably  there  are  indifference  and 
neglect  and  some  remaining  suspicion  about  the 
schools  that  Northern  charity  has  organized  for  the 
negroes.  As  to  this  neglect  of  the  negro,  two  things 
are  to  be  said :  the  whole  subject  of  education  (as  wo 
have  understood  it  in  the  North)  is  comparatively  new 
in  the  South  ;  and  the  necessity  of  earning  a  living 
since  the  war  has  distracted  attention  from  it.  But 
the  general  development  of  education  is  quite  as  ad- 
vanced as  could  be  expected.  The  thoughtful  and 
the  leaders  of  opinion  are  fully  awake  to  the  fact  that 
the  mass  of  the  people  must  be  educated,  and  that  the 
only  settlement  of  the  negro  problem  is  in  the  educa- 
tion of  the  negro,  intellectually  and  morally.  They 
go  further  than  this.  They  say  that  for  the  South  to 
hold  its  own — since  the  negro  is  there  and  will  stay 
there,  and  is  the  majority  of  the  laboring  class — it  is 
necessary  that  the  great  agricultural  mass  of  unskilled 
labor  should  be  transformed,  to  a  great  extent,  into 
a  class  of  skilled  labor,  skilled  on  the  farm,  in 
shops,  in  factories,  and  that  the  South  must  have  a 
highly  diversified  industry.    To  this  end  they  want 


Impressions  of  the  South. 


13 


industrial  as  well  as  ordinary  schools  for  the  colored 
people. 

It  is  believed  that,  with  this  education  and  with 
diversified  industry,  the  social  question  will  settle  it- 
self, as  it  does  the  world  over.  Society  cannot  be 
made  or  unmade  by  legislation.  In  New  Orleans  the 
street-cars  are  free  to  all  colors  ;  at  the  Exposition 
white  and  colored  people  mingled  freely,  talking  and 
looking  at  what  was  of  common  interest. 

We  who  live  in  States  where  hotel-keepers  exclude 
Hebrews  cannot  say  much  about  the  exclusion  of 
negroes  from  Southern  hotels.  There  are  prejudices 
remaining.  There  are  cases  of  hardship  on  the  rail- 
ways, where  for  the  same  charge  perfectly  respectable 
and  nearly  white  women  arc  shut  out  of  cars  while 
there  is  no  discrimination  against  dirty  and  disagree- 
able white  people.  In  time  all  this  will  doubtless  rest 
upon  the  basis  it  rests  on  at  the  North,  and  social  life 
will  take  care  of  itself.  It  is  my  impression  that  the 
negroes  are  no  more  desirous  to  mingle  socially  with 
the  whites  than  the  whites  are  with  the  negroes. 
Among  the  negroes  there  are  social  grades  as  distinct- 
ly marked  as  in  white  society.  What  will  be  the 
final  outcome  of  the  juxtaposition  nobody  can  tell; 
meantime  it  must  be  recorded  that  good-will  exists 
between  the  races. 

I  had  one  day  at  the  Exposition  an  interesting  talk 
with  the  colored  woman  in  charge  of  the  Alabama 
section  of  the  exhibit  of  the  colored  people.  This 
exhibit,  made  by  States,  was  suggested  and  promoted 
by  Major  Burke  in  order  to  show  the  whites  what  the 
colored  people  could  do,  and  as  a  stimulus  to  the  lat- 
ter.   There  was  not  much  time — only  two  or  three 


!• 

fc» 

1' 

. 

>; 

u 


South  and  West. 


months — in  which  to  prepare  the  exhibit,  and  it  was 
hardly  a  fair  showing  of  the  capacity  of  the  colored 
people.  The  work  was  mainly  women's  work — em- 
broidery, sewing,  household  stuffs,  with  a  little  of  the 
handiwork  of  artisans,  and  an  exhibit  of  the  progress 
in  education ;  but  small  as  it  was,  it  was  wonderful 
as  the  result  of  only  a  few  years  of  freedom.  The 
Alabama  exhibit  was  largely  from  Mobile,  and  was 
due  to  the  energy,  executive  ability,  and  taste  of  the 
commissioner  in  charge.  She  was  a  quadroon,  a  wid- 
ow, a  woman  of  character  and  uncommon  mental  and 
moral  quality.  She  talked  exceedingly  well,  and  with 
a  practical  good-sense  which  would  be  notable  in  any- 
body. In  the  course  of  our  conversation  the  whole 
social  and  political  question  was  gone  over.  Herself 
a  person  of  light  color,  and  with  a  confirmed  social 
prejudice  against  black  people,  she  thoroughly  identi- 
fied herself  with  the  colored  race,  and  it  was  evident 
that  her  sympathies  were  with  them.  She  confirmed 
what  I  had  heard  of  the  social  grades  among  colored 
people,  but  her  whole  soul  was  in  the  elevation  of  her 
race  as  a  race,  inclining  always  to  their  side,  but  with 
no  trace  of  hostility  to  the  whites.  Many  of  her  best 
friends  were  whites,  and  perhaps  the  most  valuable 
part  of  her  education  was  acquired  in  families  of  so- 
cial distinction.  "I  can  illustrate,"  she  said,  "the 
state  of  feeling  between  the  two  races  in  Mobile  bj 
an  incident  last  summer.  There  was  an  election  com- 
ing off  in  the  City  Government,  and  I  knew  that  the 
reformers  wanted  and  needed  the  colored  vote.  I 
went,  therefore,  to  some  of  the  chief  men,  who  knew 
me  and  had  confidence  in  me,  for  I  had  had  business 
relations  with  many  of  them  [she  had  kept  a  fashion- 


Impt'essions  of  the  South. 


16 


able  boarding-house],  and  told  tliera  that  I  wanted  the 
Opera-house  for  the  colored  people  to  give  an  enter- 
tainment and  exhibition  in.  The  request  Avas  extraor- 
dinary. Nobody  but  white  people  had  ever  been  ad- 
mitted to  the  Opera-house.  But,  after  some  hesitation 
and  consultation,  the  request  was  granted.  We  gave 
the  exliibition,  and  the  white  people  all  .attended.  It 
was  really  a  beautiful  affair,  lovely  tableaux,  with 
gorgeous  dresses,  recitations,  etc.,  and  everybody  was 
astonished  that  the  colored  people  had  so  much  taste 
and  talent,  and  had  got  on  so  far  in  education.  They 
said  thoy  were  delighted  and  surprised,  and  they  liked 
it  so  well  that  they  wanted  the  entertainment  repeated 
— it  was  given  for  one  of  our  charities — but  I  was  too 
wise  for  that.  I  didn't  want  to  run  the  chance  of  de- 
stroying the  impression  by  repeating,  and  I  said  we 
would  wait  a  while,  and  then  show  them  something 
better.  Well,  the  election  came  off  in  August,  and 
everything  went  all  right,  and  now  the  colored  people 
in  Mobile  can  have  anything  they  want.  There  is  the 
best  feeling  between  the  races.  I  toll  you  we  should 
get  on  beautifully  if  the  politicians  would  let  us  alone. 
It  is  politics  that  has  made  all  the  trouble  in  Alabama 
and  in  Mobile."  And  I  learned  that  in  Mobile,  as  in 
many  other  places,  tlie  negroes  were  put  in  minor  offi- 
cial positions,  the  duties  of  which  they  were  capable 
of  discharging,  and  had  places  in  the  police. 

On  "  Louisiana  Day"  in  the  Exposition  the  colored 
citizens  took  their  full  share  of  the  parade  and  the 
honors.  Their  societies  marched  with  the  others,  and 
the  races  mingled  on  the  grounds  in  unconscious  equal- 
ity of  privileges.  Speeches  were  made,  glorifying  the 
State  and  its  history,  by  able  speakers,  the  Governor 


16 


So^Uh  and  West. 


■•'.  ! 


1 


among  tlicm ;  but  it  was  tho  testimony  of  Democrats 
of  undoubted  Bcuthcrn  orthodoxy  that  the  honors  of 
tho  day  were  carried  off  by  a  colored  clergyman,  an 
educated  man,  who  united  eloquence  with  excellent 
good-sense,  and  who  spoke  as  a  citizen  of  Louisiana, 
proud  of  his  native  State,  dwelling  with  richness  of 
allusion  upon  its  history.  It  was  a  perfectly  manly 
speech  in  the  assertion  of  tho  rights  and  the  position 
of  his  race,  and  it  breathed  throiighout  the  same  spirit 
of  good-will  and  amity  in  a  common  hope  of  progress 
that  characterized  the  talk  of  the  colored  woman  com- 
missioner of  Mobile.  It  was  warmly  applauded,  and 
accepted,  so  far  as  I  heard,  as  a  matter  of  course. 

No  one,  however,  can  see  the  mass  of  colored  peo- 
ple in  the  cities  and  on  the  plantations,  the  ignorant 
mass,  slowly  coming  to  moral  consciousness,  without 
a  recognition  of  the  magnitude  of  the  negro  problem. 
I  am  glad  that  my  State  has  not  tho  practical  settle- 
ment of  it,  and  I  cannot  do  less  than  express  profound 
sympathy  with  the  people  who  have.  They  inherit 
the  most  difficult  task  now  anywhere  visible  in  human 
progress.  They  will  make  mistakes,  and  they  will  do 
injustice  now  and  then ;  but  one  feels  like  turning 
away  from  these,  and  thanking  God  for  what  they 
do  well. 

There  are  many  encouraging  things  in  the  condi- 
tion of  the  negro.  Good-will,  generally,  among  the 
people  whore  he  lives  is  one  thing;  their  tolerance  of 
his  weaknesses  and  failings  is  another.  He  is  him- 
self, here  and  there,  making  heroic  sacrifices  to  obtain 
an  education.  There  are  negro  mothers  earning  mon- 
ey at  the  wash-tub  to  keep  their  boys  at  school  and 
in  college.    In  the  South-west  there  is  such  a  call  for 


Impressions  of  the  South. 


17 


colored  teachers  that  the  Straight  University  in  New 
Orleans,  which  has  ahout  five  hundred  piipilw,  cannot 
begin  to  supply  the  demand,  although  the  teachers, 
male  and  female,  are  paid  from  thirty-five  to  fifty 
dollars  a  month.  A  colored  graduate  of  this  school  a 
y^ar  ago  is  now  superintendent  of  the  colored  schools 
in  Memphis,  at  a  salary  of  $1200  a  year. 

Are  these  exceptional  cases  ?  Well,  I  suppose  it  is 
also  exceptional  to  see  a  colored  clergyman  in  his  sur- 
plice seated  in  the  chancel  of  the  most  important  white 
Episcopal  church  in  New  Orleans,  assisting  in  the 
service;  but  it  is  significant.  There  are  many  good 
auguries  to  be  drawn  from  the  improved  condition  of 
the  negroes  on  the  plantations,  the  more  rational  and 
less  emotional  character  of  their  religious  services, 
and  the  hold  of  the  temperance  movement  on  all 
classes  in  the  country  places. 
2 


■ 


II. 


41 


SOCIETY  IN  THE  NEW  SOUTH. 

The  American  Revolution  made  less  social  change 
in  the  South  than  in  the  North.  Under  conservative 
influences  the  South  developed  her  social  life  with 
little  alteration  in  form  and  spirit — allowing  for  the 
decay  that  always  attends  conservatism — down  to  the 
Civil  War.  The  social  revolution  which  was  in  fact 
accomplished  contemporaneously  with  the  political 
severance  from  Great  Britain,  in  the  North,  was  not 
effected  in  the  South  until  Lee  offered  his  sword  to 
Grant,  and  Grant  told  him  to  keep  it  and  heat  it  into 
a  ploughshare.  The  change  had  indeed  been  inevita- 
ble, and  ripening  for  four  years,  but  it  was  at  that 
moment  universally  recognized.  Impossible,  of  course, 
except  by  the  removal  of  slaver}'-,  it  is  not  wholly  ac- 
counted for  by  the  removal  of  slavery  ;  it  results  also 
from  an  economical  and  political  revolution,  and  from 
a  total  alteration  of  the  relations  of  the  South  to  the 
rest  of  the  world.  The  story  of  this  social  change 
will  be  one  of  the  most  marvellous  the  historian  has 
to  deal  with. 

Provincial  is  a  comparative  term.  All  England  is 
provincial  to  the  Londoner,  all  America  to  the  Eng- 
lishman. Perhaps  New  York  looks  upon  Philadelphia 
as  provincial ;  and  if  Chicago  is  forced  to  admit  that 
Boston  resembles  ancient  Athens,  then  Athens,  by  the 
Chicago  standard,  must  have  been  a  very  provincial 


Societij  ill  the  New  South. 


19. 


city.  The  root  of  provincialism  is  localism,  or  a  con- 
dition of  being  on  one  side  and  apart  from  the  gen- 
eral movement  of  contemporary  life.  In  this  sense, 
and  compared  with  the  North  in  its  absolute  openness 
to  every  wind  from  all  parts  of  the  globe,  the  South 
was  provincial.  Provincialism  maj'  have  its  decided 
advantages,  and  it  may  nurture  many  superior  virtues 
and  produce  a  social  state  that  is  as  charming  as  it  is 
interesting,  but  along  with  it  goes  a  certain  self-ap- 
preciation, which  ultracosmopolitan  critics  would  call 
Concord-like,  that  seems  exaggerated  to  outsiders. 

The  South,  and  notably  Virginia  and  South  Caro- 
lina, cherished  English  traditions  long  after  the  politi- 
cal relation  was  severed.  But  it  kept  the  traditions 
of  the  time  of  the  separation,  and  did  not  share  the 
literary  and  political  evolution  of  England.  Slavery 
divided  it  from  the  North  in  sympathy,  and  slavery, 
by  excluding  European  emigration,  shut  out  the  South 
from  the  influence  of  the  new  ideas  germinating  in 
Europe.  It  was  not  exactly  true  to  say  that  the  li- 
brary of  the  Southern  gentleman  stopped  with  the 
publications  current  in  the  reign  of  George  the  Third, 
but,  well  stocked  as  it  was  w  ith  the  classics  and  with 
the  English  literature  become  classic,  it  was  not  likely 
to  contain  much  of  later  date  than  the  Reform  Bill 
in  England  and  the  beginning  of  the  abolition  move- 
ment in  the  North.  The  pages  of  De  Bow\s  Heviein 
attest  the  ambition  and  direction  of  Southern  scholar- 
ship— a  scholarship  not  much  troubled  by  the  new 
problems  that  were  at  the  time  rending  England  and 
the  North.  The  young  men  Avho  still  went  abroad  to 
be  educated  brought  back  with  them  the  traditions 
and  flavor  of  the  old  England  and  not  the  spirit  of 


mm^ 


South  and  West. 


the  new,  the  traditions  of  the  universities  and  not  the 
new  life  of  research  and  doubt  in  tliera.  The  con- 
servatism of  the  Southern  life  was  so  strong  that  the 
students  at  Northern  colleges  returned  unchanged  by 
contact  with  a  diflferent  civilization.  The  South  met 
the  North  in  business  and  in  politics,  and  in  a  limited 
social  intercourse,  but  from  one  cause  and  another  for 
three-quarters  of  a  century  it  was  practically  isolated, 
and  consequently  developed  a  peculiar  social  life. 

One  result  of  this  isolation  was  that  the  South  was 
more  homogeneous  than  the  North,  and  perhaps  "more 
distinctly  American  in  its  characteristics.  This  was 
to  be  expected,  since  it  had  one  common  and  over- 
mastering interest  in  slavery,  had  little  foreign  ad- 
mixture, and  was  removed  from  the  currents  of  com- 
merce and  the  disturbing  ideas  of  Reform.  The 
South,  so  far  as  society  was  concerned,  was  an  agri- 
cultural aristocracy,  based  upon  a  perfectly  defined 
lowest  class  in  the  slaves,  and  holding  all  trade,  com- 
merce, and  industrial  and  mechanical  pursuits  in  true 
media3val  contempt.  Its  literature  Avas  monarchical, 
tempered  by  some  Jefferisonian,  doctrinaire  notions  of 
the  rights  of  man,  which  were  satisfied,  however,  by 
an  insistence  upon  the  sovereignty  of  the  States,  and 
by  equal  privileges  to  a  certain  social  order  in  each 
State.  Looked  at,  then,  from  the  outside,  the  South 
appeared  to  be  homogeneous,  but  from  its  own  point 
of  view,  socially,  it  Avas  not  at  all  so.  Social  life  in 
these  jealously  independent  States  developed  almost 
as  freely  and  variously'  as  it  did  in  the  Middle  Ages 
in  the  free  cities  of  Italy.  Virginia  was  not  at  all 
like  South  Carolina  (except  in  one  common  interest), 
and  Louisiana — especially  in  its  centre,  New  Orleans 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


21 


— more  cosmopolitan  than  any  other  part  of  the  South 
by  reason  of  its  foreign  elements,  more  closely  always 
in  sympathy  with  Paris  than  with  New  York  or  Bos- 
ton, was  widely,  in  its  social  life,  separated  from  its 
sisters.  Indeed,  in  early  days,  before  the  slavery  agi- 
tation, there  was,  owing  to  the  heritage  of  English 
traditions,  more  in  common  between  Boston  an<l 
Charleston  than  between  New  Orleans  and  Charles- 
ton. And  later,  there  was  a  marked  social  difference 
between  towns  and  cities  near  together — as,  for  in- 
stance, between  agricultural  Lexington  and  commer- 
cial Louisville,  in  Kentucky. 

The  historian  who  writes  the  social  life  of  the 
Southern  States  will  be  embarrassed  with  romantic 
and  picturesque  material.  Nowhere  else  in  this  level- 
ling age  will  he  find  a  community  developing  so  much 
of  the  dramatic,  so  much  splendor  and  such  pathetic 
contrasts  in  the  highest  social  cultivation,  as  in  the! 
plantation  and  city  life  of  South  Carolina.  Already, 
in  regarding  it,  it  assumes  an  air  of  unreality,  and 
vanishes  in  its  strong  lights  and  heavy  shades  like  a 
dream  of  the  chivalric  age.  An  allusion  to  its  char- 
acter is  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  this  paper.  Per- 
sons are  still  alive  who  saw  the  prodigal  style  of  living 
and  the  reckless  hospitality  of  the  planters  in  those 
days,  when  in  the  Charleston  and  Sea  Island  mansions 
the  guests  constantly  entertained  were  only  outnum- 
bered by  the  swarms  of  servants;  when  it  was  not 
incongruous  and  scarcely  ostentatious  that  the  courtly 
company,  which  had  the  fine  and  free  manner  of  an- 
other age,  should  dine  off  gold  and  silver  plate ;  and 
when  all  that  wealth  and  luxury  could  suggest  was 
lavished  in  a  princely  magnificence  that  was  almost 


I ; 


;  n 


fi*'  ,' 


dd 


South  and  West. 


barbaric  in  it8  profusion.  The  young  men  were  edu- 
cated in  England ;  the  young  women  Avere  reared  like 
helpless  princesses,  with  a  servant  for  every  want  and 
whim  ;  it  was  a  day  of  elegant  accomplishments  and 
deferential  manners,  but  the  men  gamed  like  Fox  and 
drank  like  Sheridan,  and  the  duel  was  the  ordinary 
arbiter  of  any  difference  of  opinion  or  of  any  point  of 
honor.  Not  even  slavery  itself  could  support  exist- 
ence on  such  a  scale,  and  even  before  the  war  it  be- 
gan to  give  way  to  the  conditions  of  our  modern  life. 
And  now  that  old  peculiar  civilization  of  South  Caro- 
lina belongs  to  romance.  It  can  never  be  repeated, 
even  by  the  aid  of  such  gigantic  fortunes  as  are  now 
accumulating  in  the  North. 

The  agricultural  life  of  Virginia  appeals  with 
scarcely  less  attraction  to  the  imagination  of  the 
novelist.  Mr.  Thackeray  caught  the  flavor  of  it  in 
his  "Virginians  "  from  an  actual  study  of  it  in  the  old 
houses,  when  it  was  becoming  a  faded  memory.  The 
vast  estates — principalities  in  size— with  troops  of 
slaves  attached  to  each  plantation;  the  hospitality, 
less  costly,  but  as  free  as  that  of  South  Carolina ;  the 
land  in  the  hands  of  a  few  people ;  politics  and  society 
controlled  by  a  small  number  of  historic  families,  in- 
termarried until  all  Virginians  of  a  certain  grade  were 
related — all  this  forms  a  picture  as  feudal-like  and 
foreign  to  this  age  as  can  be  imagined.  The  writer 
recently  read  the  will  of  a  country  gentleman  of  the 
last  century  in  Virginia,  which  raises  a  distinct  image 
of  the  landed  aristocracy  of  the  time.  It  devised  his 
plantation  of  six  thousand  acres  with  its  slaves  at- 
tached, his  plantation  of  eighteen  hundred  acres  and 
slaves,  his  plantation  of  twelve  hundred  acres  and 


*  n 


Society  in  the  New  South, 


23 


slaves,  with  other  farms  and  outlying  property ;  it 
mentioned  all  the  cattle,  sheep,  and  hogs,  the  riding- 
horses  in  stables,  the  racing-steeds,  the  several  coach- 
es with  the  six  horses  that  drew  them  (an  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  wretched  state  of  the  roads),  and  so 
on  in  all  the  details  of  a  vast  domain.  All  the  slaves 
are  called  by  name,  all  the  farming  implements  were 
enumerated,  and  all  the  homely  articles  of  furniture 
down  to  the  beds  and  kitchen  utensils.  This  whole 
structure  of  a  unique  civilization  is  practically  swept 
away  now,  and  with  it  the  peculiar  social  life  it  pro- 
duced. Let  us  pause  a  moment  upon  a  few  details  of 
it,  as  it  had  its  highest  development  in  Eastern  Vir- 
ginia. 

The  family  was  the  fetich.  In  this  high  social  caste 
the  estates  were  entailed  to  the  limit  of  the  law,  for 
one  generation,  and  this  entail  was  commonly  relig- 
iously renewed  by  the  heir.  It  was  not  expected  that 
a  widow  would  remarry ;  as  a  rule  she  did  not,  and 
it  was  almost  a  matter  of  course  that  the  will  of  the 
husband  should  make  the  enjoyment  of  even  the  en- 
tailed estate  dependent  upon  the  non-marriage  of  the 
widow.  These  prohibitions  upon  her  freedom  of 
choice  were  not  considered  singular  or  cruel  in  a 
society  whose  chief  gospel  was  the  preservation  of 
the  family  name. 

The  planters  lived  more  simply  than  the  great  sea- 
board planters  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  with 
not  less  pride,  but  with  less  ostentation  and  show. 
The  houses  were  of  the  accepted  colonial  pattern, 
square,  with  four  rooms  on  a  floor,  but  with  wide 
galleries  (wherein  they  differed  from  the  colonial 
houses  in  New  England),  and  sometimes  with  addi- 


24 


South  and  West 


tions  in  the  way  of  offices  and  lodging-rooms.  The 
furniture  was  very  simple  and  plain — a  few  hundred 
dollars  would  cover  the  cost  of  it  in  most  mansions. 
There  were  not  in  all  Virginia  more  than  two  or 
three  magnificent  houses.  It  was  the  taste  of  gen- 
tlemen to  adorn  the  ground  in  front  of  the  house 
with  evergteens,  with  the  locust  and  acanthus,  and 
perhaps  the  maple-trees  not  native  to  the  spot ;  while 
the  oak,  which  is  nowhere  more  stately  and  noble 
than  in  Virginia,  was  never  seen  on  the  lawn  or  the 
drive-way,  but  might  be  found  about  the  "  quarters," 
or  in  an  adjacent  forest  park.  As  the  interior  of  the 
houses  was  plain,  so  the  taste  of  the  people  was  sim- 
ple in  the  matter  of  ornament — jewellery  was  very 
little  worn  ;  in  fact,  it  is  almost  literally  true  that 
there  were  in  Virginia  no  family  jewels. 

So  thoroughly  did  this  society  believe  in  itself  and 
keep  to  its  traditions  that  the  young  gentleman  of  the 
house,  educated  in  England,  brought  on  his  return 
nothing  foreign  home  with  him — no  foreign  tastes,  no 
bric-a-brac  for  his  home,  and  never  a  foreign  wife. 
He  came  back  unchanged,  and  married  the  cousin  he 
met  at  the  first  country  dance  he  went  to. 

The  pride  of  the  people,  which  was  intense,  did  not 
manifest  itself  in  ways  that  are  common  elsewhere — 
it  was  sufficient  to  itself  in  its  own  homespun  inde- 
pendence. What  would  make  one  distinguished  else- 
wher  J  was  powerless  here.  Literary  talent,  and  even 
acquired  wealth,  gave  no  distinction;  aside  from  fam- 
i'v  and  membership  of  the  caste,  nothing  gave  it  to 
any  native  or  visitor.  There  was  no  lion-hunting,  no 
"".f^lre  whatever  to  attract  the  attention  of,  or  to  pay 
any  deference  to,  men  of  letters.    If  a  member  of  so- 


Society  in  i/ie  New  South. 


25 


ciety  happened  to  be  distinguished  in  letters  or  in 
scholarship,  it  made  not  the  slightest  difference  in  his 
social  appreciation.  There  was  absolutely  no  encour- 
agement for  men  of  letters,  and  consequently  there 
was  no  literary  class  and  little  literature.  There  was 
only  one  thing  that  gave  a  man  any  distinction  in  this 
society,  except  a  long  pedigree,  and  that  was  the  tal- 
ent of  oratory — that  was  prized,  for  that  was  con- 
nected with  prestige  in  the  State  and  the  politics  of 
the  dominant  class.  The  planters  took  few  newspa- 
pers, and  read  those  few  very  little.  They  were  a 
fox-hunting,  convivial  race,  generally  Whig  in  poli- 
tics, always  orthodox  in  religion.  The  man  of  culti- 
vation was  rare,  and,  if  he  was  cultivated,  it  was  usu- 
ally only  on  a  single  subject.  But  the  planter  might 
be  an  astute  politician,  and  a  man  of  wide  knowledge 
and  influence  in  public  affairs.  There  was  one  thing, 
however,  that  was  held  in  almost  equal  value  with 
pedigree,  and  that  was  female  beauty.  There  was  al- 
ways the  recognized  "  belle,"  the  beauty  of  the  day, 
who  was  the  toast  and  the  theme  of  talk,  whose  mem- 
ory was  always  green  with  her  chivalrous  contempo- 
raries ;  the  veterans  liked  to  recall  over  the  old  Ma- 
deira the  wit  and  charms  of  the  raving  beauties  who 
had  long  gone  the  way  of  the  famous  vintages  of  the 
cellar. 

The  position  of  the  clergyman  in  the  Episcopal 
Church  was  very  much  what  his  position  was  in  Eng- 
land in  the  time  of  James  II.  He  was  patronized  and 
paid  like  any  other  adjunct  of  a  well-ordered  society. 
If  he  did  not  satisfy  his  masters  he  was  quietly  in- 
formed that  he  could  probably  be  more  useful  else- 
where.    If  he  was  acceptable,  one  element  of  his  pop- 


■f 

r  ,'^ 


f 


26 


Souih  and  West. 


ularity  was  that  he  rode  to  hounds  and  could  tell  a 
good  story  over  the  wine  at  dinner. 

The  pride  of  this  society  preserved  itself  in  a  cer- 
tain high,  chivalrous  state.  If  any  of  its  members 
were  poor,  as  most  of  them  became  after  the  war, 
they  took  a  certain  pride  in  their  poverty.  They  were 
too  proud  to  enter  into  a  vulgar  struggle  to  be  other- 
wise, and  they  were  too  old  to  learn  the  habit  of  labor. 
No  such  thing  was  known  in  it  as  scandal.  If  any 
breach  of  morals  occurred,  it  was  apt  to  bo  acknowl- 
edged with  a  Spartan  regard  for  truth,  and  defiantly 
published  by  the  families  affected,  who  announced  that 
they  accepted  the  humiliation  of  it.  Scandal  there 
should  be  none.  In  that  caste  the  character  of  women 
was  not  even  to  be  the  subject  of  talk  in  private  gos- 
sip and  innuendo.  No  breach  of  social  caste  was  pos- 
sible. The  overseer,  for  instance,  and  the  descend- 
ants of  the  overseer,  however  rich,  or  well  educated, 
or  accomplished  they  might  become,  could  never  mar- 
ry into  the  select  class.  An  alliance  of  this  sort 
doomed  the  offender  to  an  absolute  and  permanent 
loss  of  social  position.  This  was  the  rule.  Beauty 
could  no  more  gain  entrance  there  than  wealth. 

This  plantation  life,  of  which  so  much  has  been 
written,  was  repeated  with  variations  all  over  the 
South.  In  Louisiana  and  lower  Mississippi  it  was 
more  prodigal  than  in  Virginia.  To  a  great  extent 
its  tone  was  determined  by  a  relaxing  climate,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  it  had  in  it  an  element  of  the 
irresponsible  —  of  the  "  after  us  the  deluge."  The 
whole  system  wanted  thrift  and,  to  an  English  or 
Northern  visitor,  certain  conditions  of  comfort.  Yet 
everybody  acknowledged  its  fascination ;   for  there 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


27 


was  nowhere  else  such  a  display  of  open-hearted  hos- 
pitality. An  invitation  to  visit  meant  an  invitation 
to  stay  indefinitely.  The  longer  the  visit  lasted,  if  it 
ran  into  months,  the  better  were  the  entertainers 
pleased.  It  was  an  uncalculating  hospitality,  and 
possibly  it  went  along  with  littleness  and  meanness, 
in  some  directions,  that  were  no  more  creditable  than 
the  alleged  meanness  of  the  New  England  farmer. 
At  any  rate,  it  was  not  a  systematized  generosity. 
The  hospitality  had  somewhat  the  character  of  a  new 
country  and  of  a  society  not  crowded.  Company  was 
welcome  on  the  vast,  isolated  plantations.  Society 
also  was  really  small,  composed  of  a  few  families,  and 
intercourse  by  long  visits  and  profuse  entertainments 
was  natural  and  even  necessary. 

This  social  aristocracy  had  the  faults  as  well  as  the 
virtues  of  an  aristocracy  so  formed.  One  fault  was 
an  undue  sense  of  superiority,  a  sense  nurtured  by  iso- 
lation from  the  intellectual  contests  and  the  illusion- 
destroying  tests  of  modern  life.  And  this  sense  of 
superiority  diffused  itself  downward  through  the  mass 
of  the  Southern  population.  The  slave  of  a  great 
family  was  proud;  he  held  himself  very  much  above 
the  poor  white,  and  he  would  not  associate  with  the 
slave  of  the  small  farmer;  and  the  poor  white  never 
doubted  his  own  superiority  to  the  Northern  "  mud- 
sill " — as  the  phrase  of  the  day  was.  The  whole  life 
was  somehow  pitched  to  a  romantic  key,  and  often 
there  was  a  queer  contrast  between  the  Gascon-like 
pretension  and  the  reality — all  the  more  because  of  a 
certain  sincerity  and  single-mindedness  that  was  un- 
able to  see  the  anachronism  of  trying  to  live  in  the 
spirit  of  Scott's  romances  in  our  day  and  generation. 


28 


South  and  West. 


But  with  all  allowance  for  this,  there  was  a  real  basis 
for  romance  in  the  impulsive,  sun-nurtured  people,  in 
the  conflict  between  the  two  distinct  races,  and  in  the 
system  of  labor  tbat  was  an  anomaly  in  modern  life. 
With  the  downfall  of  this  system  it  was  inevitable 
that  the  social  state  should  radically  change,  and 
especially  as  this  downfall  was  sudden  and  by  vio- 
lence, and  in  a  struggle  that  left  the  South  impover- 
ished, and  reduced  to  the  rank  of  bread-winners  those 
who  had  always  regarded  labor  as  a  thing  i^npossible 
for  themselves. 

As  a  necessary  effect  of  this  change,  the  dignity  of 
the  agricultural  interest  was  lowered,  and  trade  and 
industrial  pursuits  were  elevated.  Labor  itself  was 
perforce  dignified.  To  earn  one's  living  by  actual 
work,  in  the  shop,  with  the  needle,  by  the  pen,  in  the 
counting-house  or  school,  in  any  honorable  way,  was 
a  lot  accepted  with  cheerful  courage.  And  it  is  to 
the  credit  of  all  concerned  that  reduced  circumstances 
and  the  necessity  of  work  for  daily  bread  have  not 
thus  far  cost  men  and  women  in  Southern  society 
their  social  position.  "Work  was  a  necessity  of  the 
situation,  and  the  spirit  in  which  the  new  life  was 
taken  up  brought  out  the  solid  qualities  of  the  race. 
In  a  few  trying  years  they  had  to  reverse  the  habits 
and  traditions  of  a  century.  I  think  the  honest  ob- 
server will  acknowledge  that  they  have  accomplished 
this  without  loss  of  that  social  elasticity  and  charm 
which  were  heretofore  supposed  to  depend  very  much 
upon  the  artificial  state  of  slave  labor.  And  they 
have  gained  much.  They  have  gained  in  losing  a 
kind  of  suspicion  that  was  inevitable  in  the  isolation 
of  their  peculiar  institution.    They  have  gained  free- 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


29 


dora  of  thought  and  action  in  all  the  fields  of  modern 
endeavor,  in  the  industrial  arts,  in  science,  in  literature. 
And  the  fruits  of  this  enlargement  must  add  greatly 
to  the  industrial  and  intellectual  wealth  of  the  world. 
Society  itself  in  the  new  South  has  cut  loose  from 
its  old  moorings,  but  it  is  still  in  a  transition  state, 
and  offers  the  most  interesting  study  of  tendencies 
and  possibilities.  Its  danger,  of  course,  is  that  of  tho 
North — a  drift  into  materialism,  into  a  mere  struggle 
for  wealth,  undue  importance  attached  to  money,  and 
a  loss  of  public  spirit  in  the  selfish  accumulation  of 
property.  Unfortunately,  in  the  transition  of  twenty 
years  the  higher  education  has  been  neglected.  The 
young  men  of  this  generation  have  not  given  even  as 
much  attention  to  intellectual  pursuits  as  their  fathers 
gave.  Neither  in  polite  letters  nor  in  politics  and 
political  history  have  they  had  the  same  training. 
They  have  been  too  busy  in  the  hard  struggle  for  a 
living.  It  is  true  at  the  North  that  the  young  men  in 
business  are  not  so  well  educated,  not  so  well  read,  as 
the  young  women  of  their  own  rank  in  society.  And 
I  suspect  that  this  is  still  more  true  in  the  South.  It 
is  not  uncommon  to  find  in  this  generation  Southern 
young  women  who  add  to  sincerity,  openness  and 
frankness  of  manner;  to  the  charm  born  of  the  wish 
to  please,  the  graces  of  cultivation;  who  know  I^rench 
like  their  native  tongue,  who  are  well  acquainted  with 
the  French  and  German  literatures,  who  are  well  read 
in  the  English  classics — though  perhaps  guiltless  of 
much  familiarity  with  our  modern  American  litera- 
ture. But  taking  the  South  at  large,  the  schools  for 
either  sex  are  far  behind  those  of  the  North  both  in 
discipline  and  range.    And  this  is  especially  to  be 


80 


South  and  West. 


f  > 


1 


regretted,  since  the  higher  education  is  an  absolute 
necessity  to  counteract  the  intellectual  demoralization 
of  the  newly  come  industrial  spirit. 

Wo  have  yet  to  study  the  compensations  left  to 
the  South  in  their  century  of  isolation  from  this  in- 
dustrial spirit,  and  from  the  absolutely  free  inquiry 
of  our  modern  life.  Shall  we  find  something  sweet 
and  sound  there,  that  will  yet  be  a  powerful  conserv- 
ative influence  in  the  republic?  Will  it  not  be 
strange,  said  a  distinguished  biblical  scholar  and  an 
old-time  antislavery  radical,  if  we  have  to  depend, 
after  all,  upon  the  orthodox  conservatism  of  the  South? 
For  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Southern  pulpit  holds 
still  the  traditions  of  the  old  theology,  and  the  mass 
of  Southern  Christians  are  still  undisturbed  by  doubts. 
They  are  no  more  troubled  by  agnosticism  in  religion 
than  by  altruism  in  sociology.  There  remains  a  great 
mass  of  sound  and  simple  faith.  We  are  not  discuss- 
ing either  the  advantage  or  the  danger  of  disturbing 
thought,  or  any  question  of  morality  or  of  the  con- 
duct of  life,  nor  the  shield  or  the  peril  of  ignorance — 
it  is  simply  a  matter  of  fact  that  the  South  is  compar- 
atively free  from  what  is  called  modern  doubt. 

Another  fact  is  noticeable.  The  South  is  not  and 
never  has  been  disturbed  by  "isms"  of  any  sort. 
"  Spiritualism "  or  "  Spiritism "  has  absolutely  no 
lodgement  there.  It  has  not  even  appealed  in  any 
way  to  the  excitable  and  superstitious  colored  race.  In- 
quiry failed  to  discover  to  the  writer  any  trace  of  this 
delusion  among  whites  or  blacks.  Society  has  never 
been  agitated  on  the  important  subjects  of  graham- 
bread  or  of  the  divided  skirt.  The  temperance  ques- 
tion has  forced  itself  upon  the  attention  of  deeply 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


31 


drinking  communities  hero  and  there.  Usually  it  has 
been  treated  in  a  very  coramon-scnso  way,  and  not  as 
a  matter  of  polities.  Fanaticism  may  sometimes  be 
a  necessity  against  an  overwhelming  evil ;  but  the 
writer  knows  of  communities  in  the  South  that  have 
effected  a  practical  reform  in  liquor  selling  and  drink- 
ing without  fanatical  excitement.  Uar-room  drink- 
ing is  a  fearful  curse  in  Southern  cities,  as  it  is  in 
Northern  ;  it  is  an  evil  that  the  colored  people  fall 
into  easily,  but  it  is  beginning  to  be  met  in  some 
Southern  localities  in  a  resolute  and  sensible  manner. 
The  students  of  what  we  like  to  call  "progress," 
especially  if  they  arc  disciples  of  Mr.  Ruskin,  have 
an  admirable  field  of  investigation  in  the  contrast  of 
the  social,  economic,  and  educational  structure  of  the 
North  and  the  South  at  the  close  of  the  war.  After 
a  century  of  free  schools,  perpetual  intellectual  agi- 
tation, extraordinary  enterprise  in  every  domain  of 
thought  and  material  achievement,  the  North  pre- 
sented a  spectacle  at  once  of  the  highest  hope  and  the 
gravest  anxiety.  What  diversity  of  life!  What  ful- 
ness! What  intellectual  and  even  social  emancipa- 
tion! What  reforms,  called  by  one  party  Heaven- 
sent, and  by  the  other  reforms  against  nature!  What 
agitations,  doubts,  contempt  of  authority!  W^hat  wild 
attempts  to  conduct  life  on  no  basis  philosophic  or 
divine!  And  yet  what  prosperity,  what  charities, 
what  a  marvellous  growth,  Avhat  an  improvement  in 
physical  life!  With  better  knowledge  of  sanitary 
conditions  and  of  the  culinary  art,  what  an  increase 
of  beauty  in  women  and  of  stalwartness  in  men!  For 
beauty  and  physical  comeliness,  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged  (parenthetically),  largely  depend  upon  food. 


f." 


i 

i 


^i- 


11  ! 


32 


South  aiid  West. 


It  is  in  the  impoverished  parts  of  the  country,  wheth- 
er South  or  North,  the  sandy  barrens,  and  the  still 
vast  regions  where  cooking  is  an  unknown  art,  that 
scrawny  and  dyspeptic  men  and  women  abound — the 
sallow-faced,  flat-chested,  spindle-limbed. 

This  Northern  picture  is  a  veritable  nineteenth-cen- 
tury spectacle.  Side  by  side  with  it  was  tlie  other 
society,  also  covering  a  vast  domain,  that  was  in  many 
respects  a  projection  of  the  eighteenth  century  into 
the  nineteenth.  It  had  much  of  the  conservatism, 
and  preserved  something  of  the  manners,  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  and  lacked  a  good  deal  the  so-called 
sp'rit  of  the  age  of  the  nineteenth,  together  with  its 
doubts,  its  isms,  its  delusions,  its  energies.  Life  in  the 
South  is  still  on  simpler  terms  than  in  the  North,  and 
society  is  not  so  complex.  I  am  inclined  to  think  it 
is  a  little  more  natural,  more  sincere  in  manner  though 
not  in  fact,  more  frank  and  impulsive.  One  would 
hesitate  to  use  the  word  unworldly  with  regard  to  it, 
but  it  may  be  less  calculating.  A  bungling  male  ob- 
server would  be  certain  to  get  himself  into  trouble  by 
expressing  an  opinion  about  women  in  any  part  of  the 
world;  but  women  make  society,  and  to  discuss  society 
at  all  is  to  discuss  them.  It  is  probably  true  that  the 
education  of  women  at  the  South,  taken  at  large,  is 
more  superficial  than  at  the  North,  lacking  in  purpose, 
in  discipline,  in  intellectual  vigor.  The  aim  of  the 
old  civilization  was  to  develop  the  graces  of  life,  to 
make  women  attractive,  charming,  good  talkers  (but 
not  too  learned),  graceful,  and  entertaining  compan- 
ions. When  the  main  object  is  to  charm  ard  please, 
society  is  certain  to  be  agreeable.  In  Southern  soci- 
ety beauty,  physical  beauty,  was  and  is  much  thought 


i 


I 


[1^ 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


33 


(but 


-> 
soci- 


1 


of,  much  talked  of.  The  "  belle  "  was  an  institution, 
and  is  yet.  The  belle  of  one  city  or  village  had  a 
Avide  reputation,  and  trains  of  admirers  -whereyer  she 
went — in  short,  a  veritable  career,  and  was  probably 
better  known  than  a  poetess  at  the  North.  She  not 
only  ruled  in  her  day,  but  she  left  a  memory  which 
became  a  romance  to  the  next  generation.  There 
went  along  with  such  careers  a  certain  lightness  and 
gayety  of  life,  and  now  and  again  a  good  deal  of  pa- 
thos and  tragedy. 

With  all  its  social  accomplishments,  its  love  of  col- 
or, its  climatic  tendency  to  the  sensuous  side  of  life, 
the  South  has  been  unexpectedly  wanting  in  a  fine- 
art  development — namely,  in  music  and  pictorial  art. 
Culture  of  this  sort  has  been  slow  enough  in  the 
North,  and  only  lately  has  had  any  solidity  or  been 
much  diffused.  The  love  of  art,  and  especially  of  art 
decoration,  was  greatly  quickened  by  the  Philadelphia 
Exhibition,  and  the  comparatively  recent  infusion  of 
German  music  has  begun  to  elevate  the  taste.  But  I 
imagine  that  while  the  South  naturally  was  fond  of 
music  of  a  light  sort,  and  New  Orleans  could  sustain 
and  almost  make  native  the  French  opera  when  New 
York  failed  entirely  to  popularize  any  sort  of  opera, 
the  musical  taste  w^as  generally  veiy  rudimentary; 
and  the  poverty  in  respect  to  pictures  and  engravings 
was  more  marked  still.  In  a  few  great  houses  were 
fine  paintings,  brought  over  from  Europe,  and  here 
and  there  a  noble  family  portrait.  But  the  traveller 
to-day  will  go  through  city  after  city,  and  village  af- 
ter village,  and  find  no  art-shop  (as  he  may  look  in 
vain  in  large  cities  for  any  sort  of  book-store  except 
a  news-room);  rarely  will  see  an  etching  or  a  fine 


' 


4 


34 


South  and  West. 


engraving ;  and  he  will  be  led  to  doubt  if  the  taste 
for  either  existed  to  any  great  degree  I  .^  the  war. 
Of  course  he  will  remember  that  taste  f  icnowledge 
in  the  fine  arts  may  be  said  in  the  North  to  be  recent 
acquirements,  and  that,  meantime,  the  South  has  been 
impoverished  and  struggling  in  a  political  and  social 
revolution. 

Slavery  and  isolation  and  a-  semi-feudal  state  have 
left  traces  that  must  long  continue  to  modify  social 
life  in  the  South,  and  that  may  not  wear  out  for  a 
century  to  come.  The  new  life  must  also  differ  from 
that  in  the  North  by  reason  of  climate,  and  on  account 
of  the  presence  of  the  alien,  insouciant  colored  race. 
The  vast  black  population,  however  it  may  change, 
and  however  education  may  influence  it,  must  remain 
a  i^owerful  determining  factor.  The  body  of  the 
slaves,  themselves  inert,  and  with  no  voice  in  affairs, 
inevitably  influenced  life,  the  character  of  civiliza- 
tion, manners,  even  speech  itself.  With  slavery  end- 
ed, the  Southern  whites  are  emancipated,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  the  alien  race  will  be  other  than  what  it 
was,  but  it  cannot  fail  to  affect  the  tone  of  life  in  the 
States  where  it  is  a  large  element. 

When,  however,  we  have  made  all  allowance  for 
difference  in  climate,  difference  in  traditions,  total 
difference  in  the  way  of  looking  at  life  for  a  century, 
it  is  plain  to  be  seen  that  a  great  transformation  is 
taking  place  in  the  South,  and  that  Southern  society 
and  Northern  society  are  becoming  every  day  more 
and  more  alike.  I  know  there  are  those,  and  South- 
erners, too,  who  insist  that  we  are  still  two  peoples, 
with  more  points  of  difference  than  of  resemblance — 
certainly  farther  apart  than  Gascons  and  Bretons. 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


35 


This  seems  to  me  not  true  in  general,  though  it  may 
be  of  a  portion  of  the  passing  generation.  Of  course 
there  is  difference  in  temperament,  and  peculiarities 
of  speech  and  manner  remain  and  will  continue,  as 
they  exist  in  different  portions  of  the  North — the  ac- 
cent of  the  Bostonian  differs  from  that  of  the  Phila- 
delphian,  and  the  inhabitant  of  Richmond  is  known 
by  his  speech  as  neither  of  New  Orleans  nor  New 
York.  But  the  influence  of  economic  laws,  of  com- 
mon political  action,  of  interest  and  pride  in  one  coun- 
try, is  stronger  than  local  bias  in  such  an  age  of  inter- 
communication as  this.  The  great  barrier  between 
North  and  South  having  been  removed,  social  assimi- 
lation must  go  on.  It  is  true  that  the  small  farmer 
in  Vermont,  and  the  small  planter  in  Georgia,  and  the 
village  life  in  the  two  States,  will  preserve  their  strong 
contrasts.  But  that  which,  without  clearly  defining, 
we  call  society  becomes  yearly  more  and  more  alike 
North  and  South.  It  is  becoming  more  and  more  dif- 
ficult to  tell  in  any  summer  assembly — at  Newport, 
the  White  Sulphur,  Saratoga,  Bar  Harbor — by  physi- 
ognomy, dress,  or  manner,  a  person's  birthplace. 
There  are  noticeable  fewer  distinctive  traits  that 
enable  ns  to  say  with  certainty  that  one  is  from  the 
South,  or  the  West,  or  the  East.  No  doubt  the  type 
at  such  a  Southern  resort  as  the  White  Sulphur  is 
more  distinctly  American  than  at  such  a  Northern 
resort  as  Saratoga.  We  are  prone  to  make  a  good 
deal  of  local  peculiarities,  but  when  we  look  at  the 
matter  broadly  and  consider  the  vastness  of  our  ter- 
ritory and  the  varieties  of  climate,  it  is  marvellous 
that  there  is  so  little  difference  in  speech,  manner, 
and  appearance.     Contrast  us  with  Europe  and  its  va- 


86 


South  and  West. 


i 


•( 


t 


« 


rious  irreconcilable  races  occupying  less  territory. 
Even  little  England  offers  greater  variety  than  the 
United  States.  When  we  think  of  our  large,  widely 
scattered  population,  the  wonder  is  that  we  do  not 
differ  more. 

Southern  society  has  always  had  a  certain  prestige 
in  the  North.  One  reason  for  this  was  the  fact  that 
the  ruling  class  South  had  more  leisure  for  social  life. 
Climate,  also,  had  much  to  do  in  softening  manners, 
making  the  temperament  ardent,  and  at  the  same 
time  producing  that  leisurely  movement  which  is  es- 
sential to  a  polished  life.  It  is  probably  true,  also, 
that  mere  wealth  was  less  a  passport  to  social  dis- 
tinction than  at  the  North,  or  than  it  has  become  at 
the  North  ;  that  is  to  say,  family,  or  a  certain  charm 
of  breeding,  or  the  talent  of  being  agreeable,  or  the 
gift  of  cleverness,  or  of  beauty,  were  necessary,  and 
money  was  not.  In  this  respect  it  seems  to  be  true 
that  social  life  is  changing  at  the  South  ;  that  is  to 
say,  money  is  getting  to  have  the  social  power  in 
New  Orleans  that  it  has  in  New  York.  It  is  inevita- 
ble in  a  commercial  and  indupt^ial  community  that 
money  should  have  a  controlling  power,  as  it  is  re- 
grettable that  the  enjoyment  of  its  power  very  slowly 
admits  a  sense  of  its  responsibility.  The  old  tradi- 
tions of  the  South  having  been  broken  down,  and 
nearly  all  attention  being  turned  to  the  necessity  of 
making  money,  it  must  follow  that  mere  wealth  will 
rise  as  a  social  factor.  Herein  lies  one  danger  to 
what  was  best  in  the  old  regime.  Another  danger  is 
that  it  must  be  put  to  the  test  of  the  ideas,  the  agita- 
tions, the  elements  of  doubt  and  disintegration  that 
seem  inseparable  to  "  progress,"  which  give  Northern 


'*?S 


m 
M 


ii] 


Society  in  the  New  South. 


37 


^1 


society  its  present  complexity,  and  just  cause  of 
alarm  to  all  who  watch  its  headlong  career.  Fulness 
of  life  is  accepted  as  desirable,  but  it  has  its  dangers. 

Within  the  past  iive  years  social  intercourse  be- 
tween North  and  South  has  been  greatly  increased. 
Northerners  who  felt  strongly  about  the  Union  and 
about  slavery,  and  took  up  the  cause  of  the  freedman, 
and  were  accustomed  all  their  lives  to  absolute  free 
speech,  were  not  comfortable  in  the  post-reconstruc- 
tion atmosphere.  Perhaps  they  expected  too  much 
of  human  nature — a  too  sudden  subsidence  of  sus- 
picion and  resentment.  They  felt  that  they  were 
not  welcome  socially,  however  much  their  capital  and 
business  energy  were  desired.  On  the  other  hand, 
most  Southerners  Avero  too  poor  to  travel  in  the 
North,  as  they  did  formerly.  But  all  these  points 
have  been  turned.  Social  intercourse  and  travel  are 
renewed.  If  difticulties  and  alienations  remain  thev 
are  sporadic,  and  melting  away.  The  harshness  of 
the  Northern  winter  climate  has  turned  a  stream  of 
travel  and  occupation  to  the  Gulf  States,  and  par- 
ticularly to  Florida,  which  is  indeed  now  scarcely  a 
Southern  State  except  in  climate.  The  Atlanta  and 
New  Orleans  Exhibitions  did  much  to  bring  people 
of  all  sections  together  socially.  With  returning 
iinancial  prosperity  all  the  Northern  summer  resorts 
have  seen  inci*easing  numbers  of  Southern  pe()j)k' 
seeking  health  and  pleasure.  I  believe  that  during' 
the  past  summer  more  Southerners  have  been  travel- 
ling and  visiting  in  the  North  than  ever  before. 

This  social  intermingling  is  significant  in  itself,  and 
of  the  utmost  importance  for  the  removal  of  linger- 
ing misunderstandings.     They  who  learn  to  like  each 


*  r,, 


H, 


M 

i 


J.  1 

1 


38 


South  and  West. 


■^ 
i 


i 


M 


;.  I 


other  personally  will  be  tolerant  in  political  differ- 
ences, and  helpful  and  unsuspicious  in  the  very  grave 
problems  that  rest  upon  the  late  slave  States.  Differ- 
ences of  or  '«■:.  n  and  different  interests  will  exist,  but 
surely  love  i.s  stronger  than  hate,  and  sympathy  and 
kindness  are  better  solvents  than  alienation  and  criti- 
cism. The  play  of  social  forces  is  very  powerful  in 
such  a  republic  ns  ours,  and  there  is  certainly  reason 
to  believo  'V.i.  .♦^c >^  will  be  exerted  now  in  behalf  of 
that  cordial  sij/^  .  ~'",ion  of  what  is  good  and  that 
toleration  of  iradnionrt^  differences  which  are  neces- 
sary i.  a  pO'.;^lG  indiss  ^y  bound  together  in  one 
national  destiuy.  JM^r,},,! ,  '  fcv  a  century,  the  society 
of  the  North  and  the  s&ciot)  ol  the  South  have  some- 
thing to  forget  but  more  to  gain  in  the  union  that 
every  day  becomes  closer. 


■^ 


m 


III. 

NEW  ORLEANS. 


The  first  time  I  saw  New  Orleans  was  on  a  Sunday 
morning  in  the  month  of  March.  We  alighted  from 
the  train  at  the  foot  of  Esplanade  Street,  and  walked 
along  through  the  French  Market,  and  by  Jackson 
Square  to  the  Hotel  Royal.  The  morning,  after  rain, 
was  charming ;  there  was  a  fresh  breeze  from  the 
river;  the  foliage  was  a  tender  green;  in  the  balconies 
and  on  the  mouldering  window-ledges  flowers  bloomed, 
and  in  the  decaying  courts  climbing- roses  mingled 
their  perfume  with  the  orange;  the  shops  were  open; 
ladies  tripped  along  from  early  mass  or  to  early  mar- 
ket; there  was  a  twittering  in  the  square  and  in  the 
sweet  old  gardens ;  caged  birds  sang  and  screamed 
the  songs  of  South  America  and  the  tropics;  the  lan- 
guage heard  on  all  sides  was  French  or  the  degraded 
jargon  which  the  easy-going  African  has  manufact- 
ured out  of  the  tongue  of  Bienville.  Nothing  could 
be  more  shabby  than  the  streets,  ill-paved,  with  undu- 
lating sidewalks  and  open  gutters  green  with  slime, 
and  both  stealing  and  giving  odor ;  little  canals  in 
which  the  cat,  become  the  companion  of  the  crawfish, 
and  the  vegetable  in  decay  sought  in  vain  a  current 
to  oblivion;  the  streets  with  rows  of  one-story  houses, 
wooden,  with  green  doors  and  batten  window-shutters, 
or  brick,  with  the  painted  stucco  peeling  off,  the  line 
broken  often  by  an  edifice  of  two  stories,  with  gal- 


40 


South  and  West. 


J  \ 


I:     '♦ 


leries  and  delicate  tracery  of  wrought  -  iron,  houses 
pink  and  yellow  and  brown  and  gray  —  colors  all 
blending  and  harmonious  when  we  get  a  long  vista  of 
them  and  lose  the  details  of  view  in  the  broad  artistic 
effect.  Nothing  could  be  shabbier  than  the  streets, 
unless  it  is  the  tumble-down,  picturesque  old  market, 
bright  with  flowers  and  vegetables  and  many-hued 
fish,  and  enlivened  by  the  genial  African,  who  in  the 
New  World  experiments  in  all  colors,  from  coal  black 
to  the  pale  pink  of  the  sea-shell,  to  find  one  that  suits 
his  mobile  nature.  I  liked  it  all  from  the  first;  I  lin- 
gered long  in  that  morning  walk,  liking  it  more  and 
more,  in  spite  of  its  shabbiness,  but  utterly  unable  to 
say  then  or  ever  since  wherein  its  charm  lies.  I  sup- 
pose we  are  all  wrongly  made  up  and  have  a  fallen 
nature;  else  why  is  it  that  while  the  most  thrifty  and 
neat  and  orderly  city  only  wins  our  approval,  and 
perhaps  gratifies  us  intellectually,  such  a  thriftless, 
battered  and  stained,  and  lazy  old  place  as  the  French 
quarter  of  New  Orleans  takes  our  hearts  ? 

I  never  could  find  out  exactly  Avliere  New  Orleans 
is.  I  have  looked  for  it  on  the  map  without  much 
enlightenment.  It  is  dropped  down  there  somewhere 
in  the  marshes  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  bayous  and 
lakes.  It  is  below  the  one,  and  tangled  up  among  the 
others,  or  it  might  some  day  float  out  to  the  Gulf  and 
disappear.  How  the  Mississippi  gets  out  I  never 
could  discover.  When  it  first  comes  in  sight  of  the 
town  it  is  running  east;  at  Carrollton  it  abruptly  turns 
its  rapid,  broad,  yellow  flood  and  runs  south,  turns 
presently  eastward,  circles  a  great  portion  of  the  city, 
then  makes  a  bold  push  for  the  north  in  order  to 
avoid  Algiers  and  reach  the  foot  of  Canal  Street,  and 


New  Orleans. 


41 


encountering  there  the  heart  of  the  town,  it  sheers  oflf 
again  along  the  old  French  quarter  and  Jackson 
Square  due  east,  and  goes  no  one  knows  where,  except 
perhaps  jVIr.  Eads. 

The  city  is  supposed  to  lie  in  this  bend  of  the  river, 
but  it  in  fact  extends  eastward  along  the  bank  down 
to  the  Barracks,  and  spreads  backward  towards  Lake 
Pontchartrain  over  a  vast  area,  and  includes  some 
very  good  snipe-shooting. 

Although  New  Orleans  has  only  about  a  quarter  of 
a  million  of  inhabitants,  and  so  many  only  in  the  win- 
ter, it  is  larger  than  Pekin,  and  I  believe  than  Phila- 
delphia, having  an  area  of  about  one  hundred  and 
live  square  miles.  From  Carrollton  to  the  IJarracks, 
which  are  not  far  from  the  Battle-field,  the  distance 
by  the  river  is  some  thirteen  miles.  From  the  river 
to  the  lake  the  least  distance  is  four  miles.  This  vast 
territory  is  traversed  by  lines  of  horse-cars  wiiich 
all  meet  in  Canal  Street,  the  most  important  business 
thoroughfare  of  the  city,  which  runs  north-east  from 
the  river,  and  divides  the  French  from  the  Amer- 
ican quarter.  One  taking  a  horse-car  in  any  part 
of  the  city  will  ultimately  land,  having  boxed  the 
compass,  in  Canal  Street.  But  it  needs  a  person  of 
vast  local  erudition  to  tell  in  what  part  of  the  city,  or 
in  what  section  of  the  home  of  the  frog  and  craw- 
fish, lie  will  land  if  he  takes  a  horse-car  in  Canal 
Street.  The  river  being  higher  than  the  city,  there 
is  of  course  no  drainage  into  it ;  but  there  is  a  theory 
that  the  water  in  the  open  gutters  does  move,  and 
that  it  moves  in  the  direction  of  the  Bayou  St.  John, 
and  of  the  cypress  swamps  that  drain  into  Lake  Pont- 
chartrain.    The  stranger  who  is  accustomed  to  closed 


^1  iK 


'i 


I  -ii 


48 


South  and  West. 


sewers,  and  to  get  his  malaria  and  tyj^hoid  through 
pipes  conducted  into  his  house  by  the  most  approved 
methods  of  plumbing,  is  .aghast  at  this  spectacle  of 
slime  and  filth  in  the  streets,  and  wonders  why  the 
city  is  not  in  perennial  epidemic  ;  but  the  sun  and  the 
wind  are  great  scavengers,  and  the  city  is  not  nearly 
so  unhealthy  as  it  ought  to  be  with  such  a  city  gov- 
ernment as  they  say  it  endures. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  much  upon  the  external 
features  of  New  Orleans,  for  innumerable  descriptions 
and  pictures  have  familiarized  the  public  with  them. 
Besides,  descriptions  can  give  the  stranger  little  idea 
of  the  peculiar  city.  Although  all  on  one  level,  it  is 
a  town  of  contrasts.  In  no  other  city  of  the  Unit- 
ed States  or  of  Mexico  is  the  old  and  romantic  pre- 
served in  such  integrity  and  brought  into  such  sharp 
contrast  to  the  modern.  There  are  many  handsome 
public  buildings,  churches,  club-houses,  elegant  shops, 
and  on  the  American  side  a  great  area  of  well-paved 
streets  solidly  built  up  in  business  blocks.  The  Square 
of  the  original  city,  included  between  the  river  and 
canal,  Rampart  and  Esplanade  streets,  which  was  once 
surrounded  by  a  wall,  is  as  closely  built,  but  the 
streets  are  narrow,  the  houses  generally  are  smaller, 
and  although  it  sw.arms  with  people,  and  contains  the 
cathedral,  the  old  Spanish  buildings,  Jackson  Square, 
the  French  Market,  the  French  Opera-house,  and  other 
theatres,  the  Mint,  the  Custom-house,  the  old  Ursuline 
convent  (now  the  residence  of  the  archbishop),  old 
banks,  and  scores  of  houses  of  historic  celebrity,  it  is 
a  city  of  the  past,  and  specially  interesting  in  its  pict- 
uresque decay.  Beyond  this,  eastward  and  north- 
ward extend  interminable  streets  of  small  houses,  with 


,t 


•M 


■f 


New  Orleans. 


43 


now  and  then  a  flowery  court  or  a  pretty  rose  garden, 
occupied  mainly  by  people  of  French  and  Spanish  de- 
scent. The  African  pervades  all  parts  of  the  town, 
except  the  new  residence  portion  of  the  American 
quarter.  This,  which  occupies  the  vast  area  in  the 
bend  of  the  river  west  of  the  business  blocks  as  far 
as  Carrollton,  is  in  character  a  great  village  rather 
than  a  city.  Not  all  its  broad  avenues  and  hand- 
some streets  are  paved  (and  those  that  are  not  are 
in  some  seasons  impassable),  its  hoiisi's  are  nearly 
all  of  wood,  most  of  them  detached,  with  plots  of 
ground  and  gardens,  and  as  the  quarter  is  very  well 
shaded,  the  eifect  is  bright  and  agreeable.  In  it  are 
many  stately  residences,  occupying  a  square  or  lialf  a 
square,  and  embowered  in  foliage  and  flowers.  Care 
has  been  given  lately  to  turf-culture,  and  one  sees  here 
thick-set  and  handsome  lawns.  The  broad  Esplanade 
Street,  with  its  elegant  old-fashioned  houses,  and  dou- 
ble rows  of  shade  trees,  which  has  long  been  the  rural 
pride  of  the  French  quarter,  has  now  rivals  in  respect- 
ability and  style  on  the  American  side. 

New  Orleans  is  said  to  be  deliofhtful  in  the  late  fall 
months,  before  the  winter  rains  set  in,  but  I  believe  it 
looks  its  best  in  March  and  April.  This  is  owing  to 
the  roses.  If  the  town  was  not  attached  to  the  name 
of  the  Crescent  City,  it  might  very  well  adopt  the 
title  of  the  City  of  Roses.  So  kind  are  climate  and 
soil  that  the  magnificent  varieties  of  this  queen  of 
flowers,  which  at  the  North  bloom  only  in  hot-houses, 
or  with  great  care  are  planted  out-doors  in  the  heat  of 
our  summer,  thrive  here  in  the  open  air  in  prodigal 
abundance  and  beauty.  In  April  the  town  is  literally 
embowered  in  them  ;  they  fill  door-yards  and  gardens, 


/ 


44 


South  and  West. 


\ 


i 


1 

1 
*  i 

1 

•  ■ 

■  », 

! 
\ 

1 

r 

Nl 

!■ 

1  ^'9 

f 

m 

J. « tt 


tboy  overrun  the  porches,  they  climb  tlic  sides  of  the 
houses,  they  spread  over  the  trees,  they  take  posses- 
sion of  trellises  and  fences  and  walls,  perfuming  the 
air  and  entrancing  the  heart  with  color.  In  the  out- 
lying parks,  like  that  of  the  Jockey  Club,  and  the 
florists'  gardens  at  CarroUton,  there  are  fields  of  them, 
acres  of  the  finest  sorts  waving  in  the  spring  wind. 
Alas  !  can  beauty  ever  satisfy  ?  This  wonderful  spec- 
tacle fills  one  with  I  know  not  what  exquisite  longing. 
These  flowers  pervade  the  town,  old  women  on  the 
street  corners  sit  behind  banks  of  them,  the  florists' 
windows  blush  with  them,  friends  despatch  to  each 
other  great  baskets  of  them,  the  favorites  at  the  the- 
atre and  the  amateur  performers  stand  behind  high 
barricades  of  roses  which  the  good-humored  audience 
piles  upon  the  stage,  everybody  carries  roses  and 
wears  roses,  and  the  houses  overflow  with  them.  In 
this  passion  for  flowers  you  may  read  a  prominent 
trait  of  the  people.  For  myself  I  like  to  see  a  spot 
on  this  earth  where  beauty  is  enjoyed  for  itself  and 
let  to  run  to  waste,  but  if  ever  the  industrial  spirit 
of  the  French-Italians  should  prevail  along  the  litto- 
ral of  Louisiana  and  Mississippi,  the  raising  of  flow- 
ers for  the  manufacture  of  perfumes  would  become 
a  most  profitable  industry. 

New  Orleans  is  the  most  cosmopolitan  of  provincial 
cities.  Its  comparative  isolation  has  secured  the  de- 
velopment of  provincial  traits  and  manners,  has  pre- 
served the  individuality  of  the  many  races  that  give 
it  color,  morals,  and  character,  while  its  close  relations 
with  France — an  afliliation  and  sympathy  which  the 
late  war  has  not  altogether  broken — and  the  constant 
influx  of  Northern  men  of  business  and  affairs  have 


m 


New  Orlcant. 


15 


3 


1 


given  it  tho  air  of  a  metropolis.  To  the  Northern 
ranger  the  aspect  and  tho  manners  of  the  city  are 
xoreign,  but  if  lie  remains  long  enough  he  is  sure  to 
yield  to  its  fascinations,  and  become  a  partisan  of  it. 
It  is  not  altogether  the  soft  and  somewhat  enervating 
and  occasionally  treacherous  climate  that  beguiles 
him,  but  quite  as  much  the  easy  terms  on  which  life 
can  be  lived.  There  is  a  human  as  well  as  a  climatic 
amiability  that  wins  him.  No  doubt  it  is  better  for  a 
man  to  be  always  braced  up,  but  no  doubt  also  there 
is  an  attraction  in  a  complaisance  that  indulges  his 
inclinations. 

Socially  as  well  as  commercially  New  Orleans  is  in 
a  transitive  state.  The  change  from  river  to  railway 
'•ansportation  has  made  her  levees  vacant ;  the  ship- 
ment of  cotton  by  rail  and  its  direct  transfer  fo  ocean 
carriage  have  nearly  destroyed  a  large  mid  llo-men 
industry  ;  a  large  part  of  the  agricultural  tribute  of 
the  South-west  has  been  diverted;  plantations  have 
either  not  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  war  or 
have  not  adjusted  themselves  to  new  productions,  and 
the  city  waits  the  rather  blind  developments  of  the 
new  era.  Tho  falling  off  of  law  business,  which  I 
should  like  to  attribute  to  the  growth  of  common- 
sense  and  good-will  is,  I  fear,  rather  due  to  business 
lassitude,  for  it  is  observed  that  men  quarrel  most 
when  they  are  most  actively  engaged  in  acquiring 
each  other's  property.  The  business  habits  of  the 
Creoles  were  conservative  and  slow  ;  they  do  not 
readily  accept  new  ways,  and  in  this  tr.nnsition  time 
the  American  element  is  taking  the  lead  in  all  enter- 
prises. The  American  element  itself  is  toned  down 
by  the  climate  and  the  contagion  of  the  leisurely  bab- 


46 


South  and  West. 


T 


■,  \ 


I:    ^ 


its  of  the  Creoles,  and  loses  something  of  the  sharp- 
ness and  excitability  exhibited  by  business  men  in  all 
Northern  cities,  but  it  is  certainly  changing  the  social 
as  well  as  the  business  aspect  of  the  city.  Whether 
these  social  changes  will  make  New  Orleans  a  moro 
agreeable  place  of  residence  remains  to  be  seen. 

For  the  old  civilization  had  many  admirp'ole  quali- 
ties. With  all  its  love  of  money  and  luxury  and  an 
easy  life,  it  was  comparatively  simple.  It  cared  less 
for  display  than  the  society  that  is  supplanting  it. 
Its  rule  was  domesticity.  I  should  say  that  it  had 
the  virtues  as  well  as  the  prejudices  and  the  narrow- 
ness of  intense  family  feeling,  and  its  exclusiveness. 
But  when  it  trusted,  it  had  few  reserves,  and  its  cord- 
iality was  equal  to  its  naivete.  The  Creole  civiliza- 
tion differed  totally  from  that  in  any  Northern  city; 
it  looked  at  life,  literature,  wit,  manners,  from  alto- 
gether another  plane;  in  order  to  understand  the  so- 
ciety of  New  Orleans  one  needs  to  imagine  what 
French  society  would  be  in  a  genial  climate  and  in 
the  freedom  of  a  new  country.  Undeniably,  until 
recently,  the  Creoles  gave  the  tone  to  New  Orleans. 
And  it  was  the  French  culture,  the  French  view  of 
life,  t'  t  was  diffused.  The  young  ladies  mainly 
were  educated  in  convents  and  French  schools.  This 
education  had  womanly  agreeability  and  matrimony 
in  view,  and  the  graces  of  social  life.  It  differed  not 
much  from  the  education  of  young  ladies  of  the  peri- 
od elsewhere,  except  that  it  was  from  the  French 
rather  than  the  English  side,  but  this  made  a  world 
of  difference.  French  was  a  study  and  a  possession, 
not  a  fashionable  accomplishment.  The  Creole  had 
gayety,  sentiment,  spirit,  with  a  certain  climatic  Ian- 


\;^i'"' 
'* 


New  Orleans. 


47 


had 


guor,  sweetness  of  disposition,  and  charm  of  manner, 
and  not  seldom  winning  beauty;  she  was  passionately 
fond  of  dancin;^  and  of  music,  and  occasionally  an 
adept  in  the  latter;  and  she  had  candor,  and  either 
simplicity  or  the  art  of  it.  But  with  her  tendency 
to  domesticity  and  her  capacity  for  friendship,  and 
notwithstanding  her  gay  temperament,  she  Avas  less 
worldly  than  some  of  her  sisters  who  were  more 
gravely  educated  after  the  English  manner.  There 
was  therefore  in  the  old  New  Orleans  life  something 
nobler  than  the  spirit  of  plutocracy.  The  Creole 
middle-class  population  had,  and  has  yet,  captivating 
naivete,  friendliness,  cordiality. 

But  the  Creole  influence  in  New  Orleans  is  wider 
and  deeper  than  this.  It  has  affected  literary  sym- 
pathies and  what  may  be  called  literary  morals.  In 
business  the  Creole  is  accused  of  being  slow,  conserva- 
tive, in  regard  to  improvements  obstinate  and  reaction- 
ary, preferring  to  nurse  a  prejudice  rather  than  run 
the  risk  of  removing  it  by  improving  himself,  and  of 
having  a  conceit  that  his  way  of  looking  at  life  is  bet- 
ter than  the  Boston  way.  His  literary  culture  is  de- 
rived from  France,  and  not  from  England  or  the 
North.  And  his  ideas  a  good  deal  affect  the  attitude 
of  New  Orleans  towards  English  an  1  contemporary 
literature.  The  American  element  of  the  town  was 
for  the  most  part  commercial,  and  little  given  to  lit- 
erary tastes.  That  also  is  changing,  but  I  fancy  it  is 
still  true  that  the  most  solid  culture  is  with  the  Cre- 
oles, and  it  has  not  been  appreciated  because  it  is 
French,  and  because  its  point  of  view  for  literary 
criticism  is  quite  different  from  that  prevailing  else- 
where in  America.     It  brings  our  American  and  Eng- 


48 


South  and  West. 


I 


m 


lish  contemporary  authors,  for  instance,  to  compari- 
son, not  with  each  other,  but  with  French  and  other 
Continental  writers.  And  this  point  of  view  consid- 
erably affects  the  New  Orleans  opinion  of  Northern 
literature.  In  this  view  it  wants  color,  passion ;  it  is 
too  self-conscious  and  prudish,  not  to  say  Puritanically 
mock-modest.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  Creoles 
as  a  class  are  a  reading  people,  but  the  literary  stand- 
ards of  their  scholars  and  of  those  among  them  who 
do  cultivate  literature  deeply  are  different  from  those 
at  the  North.  "VVe  may  call  it  provincial,  or  we  may 
call  it  cosmopolitan,  but  we  shall  not  understand  New 
Orleans  until  we  get  its  point  of  view  of  both  life 
and  letters. 

In  making  these  observations  it  will  occur  to  the 
reader  that  they  are  of  necessity  superficial,  and  not 
entitled  to  be  regarded  as  criticism  or  judgment.  But 
I  am  impressed  with  the  foreignness  of  New  Orleans 
civilization,  and  whether  its  point  of  view  is  right  or 
wrong,  I  am  very  far  from  wishing  it  to  change.  It 
contains  a  valuable  element  of  variety  for  the  repub- 
lic. We  tend  everywhere  to  sameness  and  monotony. 
New  Orleans  is  entering  upon  a  new  era  of  develop- 
ment, especially  in  educational  life.  The  Toulane 
University  is  beginning  to  make  itself  felt  as  a  force 
both  in  polite  letters  and  in  industrial  education. 
And  I  sincerely  hope  that  the  literary  development  of 
the  city  and  of  the  South-west  will  be  in  the  line  of 
its  own  traditions,  and  that  it  will  not  be  a  copy  of 
New  England  or  of  Dutch  Manhattan.  It  can,  if  it 
is  faithful  to  its  own  sympathies  and  temperament, 
make  an  original  and  valuable  contribution  to  our  lit- 
erary life. 


I 

3 


■I 


f 


I 


New  Orleans. 


49 


I 


;a 


There  is  a  great  temptation  to  regard  New  Orleans 
through  the  romance  of  its  past;  and  the  most  inter- 
esting occupation  of  the  idler  is  to  stroll  about  in  the 
French  part  of  the  town,  search  the  shelves  of  French 
and  Spanish  literature  in  the  second-hand  book-shops, 
try  to  identify  the  historic  sites  and  the  houses  that 
are  the  seats  of  local  romances,  and  observe  the  life 
in  the  narrow  streets  and  alleys  that,  except  for  the 
presence  of  the  colored  folk,  recall  the  quaint  pictu- 
resquencss  of  many  a  French  provincial  town.     One 

jver  tires  of  wandering  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
old  cathedral,  facing  the  smart  Jackson  Square,  which 
is  flanked  by  the  respectable  Pontalba  buildings,  and 
supported  on  either  side  by  the  ancient  Spanish  court- 
house, the  most  interesting  specimens  of  Spanish  ar- 
chitecture this  side  of  Mexico.  "When  the  court  is  in 
session,  iron  cables  are  stretched  across  the  street  to 
prevent  the  passage  of  wagons,  and  justice  is  admin- 
istered in  silence  only  broken  by  the  trill  of  birds  in 
the  Place  d'Armes  and  in  the  old  flower-garden  in 
the  rear  of  the  cathedral,  and  by  the  muftled  sound 
of  footsteps  in  the  flagged  passages.  The  region  is 
saturated  with  romance,  and  so  full  of  present  senti- 
ment and  picturcsqueness  that  I  can  fancy  no  ground 
more  congenial  to  tlie  artist  and  the  story-teller.  To 
enter  into  any  details  of  it  would  be  to  commit  one's 
self  to  a  task  quite  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  this  pa- 
per, and  I  leave  it  to  the  writers  who  have  done  and 
are  doing  so  much  to  make  old  New  Orleans  classic. 

Possibly  no  other  city  of  the  United  States  so 
abounds  in  stories  pathetic  and  tragic,  many  of  which 
cannot  yet  be  published,  growing  out  of  the  mingling 
of  races,  the  conflicts  of  French  and  Spanish,  the  pres- 


50 


South  and  West. 


\\.   iil 


ence  of  adventurers  from  the  Old  World  and  the 
Spanish  Main,  and  especially  out  of  the  relations  be- 
tween the  whites  and  the  fair  women  who  had  in  their 
thin  veins  drops  of  African  blood.  The  quadroon 
and  the  octoroon  are  the  staple  of  hundreds  of  thrill- 
ing tales.  Duels  were  common  incidents  of  the  Cre- 
ole dancing  assemblies,  and  of  the  cordon  hltu  balls — 
the  deities  of  which  were  the  quadroon  wonien,  "  the 
handsomest  race  of  women  in  the  world,"  says  the 
description,  and  the  most  splendid  dancers  and  the 
most  exquisitely  dressed — the  affairs  of  honor  being 
settled  by  a  midnight  thrust  in  a  vacant  square  be- 
hind the  cathedral,  or  adjourned  to  a  more  French 
daylight  encounter  at  "The  Oaks,"  or  "Les  Trois 
Capalins."  But  this  life  has  all  gone.  In  a  stately 
building  in  this  quarter,  said  by  tradition  to  have  been 
the  quadroon  ball-room,  but  I  believe  it  was  a  white 
assembly-room  connected  with  the  opera,  is  now  a 
well-ordered  school  for  colored  orphans,  presided  over 
by  colored  Sisters  of  Charity. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  the  peculiar  prestige  of  the 
quadroon  and  the  octoroon  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 
Indeed,  the  result  of  the  war  has  greatly  changed  the 
relations  of  the  two  races  in  New  Orleans.  The  col- 
ored people  witiidraw  more  and  more  to  themselves. 
Isolation  from  white  influence  has  good  results  and 
bad  results,  the  bad  being,  as  one  can  see,  in  some 
quarters  of  the  town,  a  tendency  to  barbarism,  which 
can  only  be  counteracted  by  free  public  schools,  and 
by  a  necessity  which  shall  compel  them  to  habits  of 
thrift  and  industry.  One  needs  to  be  very  much  an 
optimist,  however,  to  have  patience  for  these  develop- 
ments. 


'ii, 


New  Orleans. 


51 


I  believe  there  is  an  instinct  in  both  races  against 
mixture  of  blood,  and  upon  this  rests  the  law  of 
Louisiana,  which  forbids  such  intermarriages ;  the 
time  ma}'^  come  when  the  colored  people  will  be  as 
strenuous  in  insisting  upon  its  execution  as  the  whites, 
unless  there  is  a  great  change  in  popular  feeling,  of 
which  there  is  no  sign  at  present ;  it  is  they  who  will 
see  that  there  is  no  escape  from  the  equivocal  por- 
tion in  which  those  nearly  white  in  appearance  find 
themselves  except  by  a  rigid  Be])aration  of  races. 
The  danger  is  of  a  reversal  at  any  time  to  the  origi- 
nal type,  and  that  is  always  present  to  the  offspring 
of  any  one  with  a  drop  of  African  blood  in  the  veins. 
The  pathos  of  tiiis  situation  is  infinite,  and  it  cannot 
be  lessened  by  saying  that  the  prejudice  about  color 
is  unreasonable  ;  it  exists.  Often  the  African  strain 
is  so  attenuated  that  the  possessor  of  it  would  pass  to 
the  ordinary  observer  for  Spanish  or  French  ;  and  I 
suppose  that  many  so-called  Creole  peculiarities  of 
speech  and  manner  are  traceable  to  this  strain.  An 
incident  in  point  may  not  be  uninteresting. 

I  once  lodged  in  the  old  French  quarter  in  a  house 
kept  by  two  maiden  sisters,  only  one  of  whom  spoke 
English  at  all.  They  were  refined,  and  had  the  air  of 
decayed  gentlewomen.  The  one  who  spoke  English 
had  the  vivacity  and  agreeability  of  a  Paris  landlady, 
without  the  latter's  invariable  hardness  and  sharpness. 
I  thought  I  had  found  in  her  pretty  mode  of  speech 
the  real  Creole  dialect  of  her  class.  "  You  are  French," 
I  said,  when  I  engaged  m}'  room. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  no,  ni'sieu,  I  am  an  American ;  we 
are  of  the  United  States,"  with  the  air  of  informing  a 
stranger  that  New  Orleans  was  now  annexed. 


52 


South  and  West. 


'A 


i  M 


a 


Yes,"  I  replied,  "but  you  are  of  French  de- 
scent ?" 

"  Oh,  and  a  little  Spanish." 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  madame,"  I  asked,  one  Sunday 
morning,  "  the  way  to  Trinity  Church  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,  m'sieu ;  it  is  somewhere  the  other 
side  ;  I  do  not  know  the  other  side." 

"But  have  you  never  been  the  other  side  of  Canal 
Street  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  I  went  once,  to  make  a  visit  on  a  friend 
on  New-Year's." 

I  explained  that  it  was  far  uptown,  and  a  Protes- 
tant church. 

"  M'sieu,  is  he  Cat'olic  ?" 

"  Oh  no  ;  I  am  a  Protestant." 

"  Well,  me,  I  am  Cat'olic  ;  but  Protestan'  o'  Cat'o- 
lic, it  is  'mos'  ze  same." 

This  was  purely  the  instinct  of  politeness,  and  that 
my  feelings  might  not  be  wounded,  for  she  was  a 
good  Catholic,  and  did  not  believe  at  all  that  it  was 


"  'mos'  ze  same." 


It  was  Exposition  year,  and  then  April,  and  madame 
had  never  been  to  the  Exposition.  I  urged  her  to  go, 
and  one  day,  after  great  preparation  for  a  journey  to 
the  other  side,  she  made  the  expedition,  and  returned 
enchanted  with  all  she  had  seen,  especially  with  the 
Mexican  band.  A  new  world  was  opened  to  her,  and 
she  resolved  to  go  again.  The  morning  of  Louisiana 
Day  she  rapped  at  my  door  and  informed  me  that  she 
was  going  to  the  fair.  "And" — she  paused  at  the 
door-way,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  her  new  project — 
"  you  know  what  I  goin'  do  ?" 

"  No." 


New  Orleans. 


58 


"  I  goin'  get  one  big  bouquet,  and  give  to  the  lead- 
er of  the  orchestre." 

"  You  know  him,  the  leader '?" 

"No,  not  yet." 

I  did  not  know  then  how  poor  she  was,  and  how 
much  sacrifice  this  woukl  be  to  her,  this  gratification 
of  a  sentiment. 

The  next  year,  in  the  same  month,  I  asked  for  her 
at  the  lodging.  She  was  not  there.  "  You  did  not 
know,"  said  the  woman  then  in  possession — "goofl 
God  !  her  sister  died  four  days  ago,  from  want  of 
food,  and  raadame  has  gone  away  back  of  town,  no- 
body knows  where.  They  told  nobody,  they  were  so 
proud ;  none  of  their  friends  knew,  or  they  would  have 
helped.  They  had  no  lodgers,  and  could  not  keep 
this  place,, and  took  another  opposite;  but  they  were 
unlucky,  and  the  sheriff  came."  I  said  that  I  was 
very  sorry  that  I  had  not  known  ;  she  might  have 
been  helped.  "  No,"  she  replied,  with  considerable 
spirit;  "she  would  have  accepted  nothing;  slie  would 
starve  rather.  So  would  I."  The  woman  referred 
me  to  some  well-known  Creole  families  who  knew 
madarae,  but  I  was  unable  to  find  her  hiding-place. 
I  asked  who  madame  was.  "  Oh,  she  was  a  very  nice 
woman,  yQYj  rcs;ectable.  Her  father  was  Spanish, 
her  mother  was  an  octoroon." 

One  does  not  need  to  go  into  the  past  of  New  Or- 
leans for  the  picturesque;  the  streets  have  their  pe- 
culiar physiognomy,  and  "character"  such  as  the 
artists  delight  to  depict  is  the  result  of  the  extraordi- 
nary mixture  of  races  and  the  habit  of  out-door  life. 
The  long  summer,  from  April  to  November,  with  a 
heat  continuous,  though  rarely  so  excessive  as  it  oc- 


54 


South  and  West. 


f 


$ 


4' 


I        J  n 


^ 


I     1 


casionally  is  in  higher  latitudes,  determines  the  mode 
of  Hfe  and  the  structure  of  the  houses,  and  gives  a 
leisurely  and  amiable  tone  to  the  aspect  of  people  and 
streets  which  exists  in  few  other  American  cities. 
The  French  quarter  is  out  of  repair,  and  has  the  air 
of  being  for  rent;  but  in  fact  there  is  comparatively 
little  change  in  occupancy,  Creole  families  being  re- 
markably adhesive  to  localities.  The  stranger  who 
sees  all  over  the  French  and  the  business  parts  of  the 
town  the  immense  number  of  lodging-houses — some 
of  them  the  most  stately  old  mansions — let  largely 
by  colored  landladies,  is  likely  to  underestimate  the 
home  life  of  this  city.  New  Orleans  soil  is  so  wet 
that  the  city  is  without  cellars  for  storage,  and  its 
court-yards  and  odd  corners  become  catch-alls  of  bro- 
ken furniture  and  other  lumber.  The  solid  window- 
shutters,  useful  in  the  glare  of  the  long  summer,  give 
a  blank  appearance  to  the  streets.  This  is  relieved, 
however,  by  the  queer  little  Spanish  houses,  and  by 
the  endless  variety  of  galleries  and  balconies.  In  one 
part  of  the  town  the  iron-work  of  the  balconies  is  cast, 
and  uninteresting  in  its  set  patterns;  in  French-town 
much  of  it  is  hand-made,  exquisite  in  design,  and  gives 
to  a  street  vista  a  delicate  lace-work  appearance.  I 
do  not  know  any  foreign  town  which  has  on  view  so 
much  exquisite  wrought-iron  work  as  the  old  part  of 
New  Orleans.  Besides  the  balconies,  there  are  re- 
cessed galleries,  old  dormer-windows,  fantastic  little 
nooks  and  corners,  tricked  out  with  flower-pots  and 
vines. 

The  glimpses  of  street  life  are  always  entertaining, 
because  unconscious,  while  full  of  character.  It  may 
be  a  Creole  court-yard,  the  walls  draped  with  vines, 


\ 


New  Orleans. 


65 


flowers  blooming  in  liap-hazard  disarray,  and  a  group 
of  pretty  girls  sewing  and  chatting,  and  stabbing  the 
passer-by  with  a  charmed  ghince.  It  may  be  a  cotton 
team  in  the  street,  the  mules,  the  rollicking  driver,  the 
creaking  cart.  It  may  be  a  single  figure,  or  a  group 
in  the  market  or  on  the  levee — a  slender  yellow  girl 
sweeping  up  the  grains  of  rice,  a  colored  gleaner  re- 
calling Ruth;  an  ancient  darky  asleep,  with  mouth 
open,  in  his  tipped-up  two-wheeled  cart,  waiting  for  a 
job;  the  "solid  South,"  in  the  shape  of  an  immense 
"  aunty  "  under  a  red  umbrella,  standing  and  contem- 
plating the  river;  the  broad-faced  women  in  gay  ban- 
dannas behind  their  cake  -  stands ;  a  group  of  levee 
hands  about  a  rickety  table,  taking  their  noonday 
meal  of  pork  and  greens;  the  blind-man,  capable  of 
sitting  more  patiently  than  an  American  Congress- 
man, with  a  dog  trained  to  hold  his  basket  for  the 
pennies  of  the  charitable;  the  black  stalwart  vender 
of  tin  and  iron  utensils,  who  totes  in  a  basket,  and 
piled  on  his  head,  and  strung  on  his  back,  a  weight  of 
over  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds;  and  negro  women 
who  walk  erect  with  baskets  of  clothes  or  enormous 
bundles  balanced  on  their  heads,  smiling  and  "  jaw- 
ing," unconscious  of  their  burdens.  These  are  the  fa- 
miliar figures  of  a  street  life  as  varied  and  picturesque 
as  the  artist  can  desire. 

New  Orleans  amuses  itself  in  the  winter  with  very 
good  theatres,  and  until  recently  has  sustained  an  ex- 
cellent French  opera.  It  has  all  the  year  round  plen- 
ty of  cafes  chantants,  gilded  saloons,  and  gambling- 
liouses,  and  more  than  enough  of  the  resorts  upon 
which  the  police  are  supposed  to  keep  one  blind  eye. 
"  Back  of  town,"  towards  Lake  Pontchartrain,  there  is 


ii  •;■ 

66 


South  and  West. 


much  that  is  picturesque  and  hlooming,  especially  in 
the  spring  of  the  year — the  charming  gardens  of  the 
Jockey  Club,  the  City  Park,  the  old  duelling-ground 
with  its  superb  oaks,  and  the  Bayou  St.  John  with  its 
idling  fishing-boats,  and  the  colored  houses  and  plan- 
tations along  the  banks — a  piece  of  Holland  wanting 
the  Dutch  windmills.  On  a  breezy  day  one  may  go 
far  for  a  prettier  sight  than  the  river-bank  and  es- 
planade at  Carrollton,  where  the  mighty  coffee-colored 
flood  swirls  by,  where  the  vast  steamers  struggle  and 
cough  against  the  stream,  or  swiftly  go  with  it  round 
the  bend,  leaving  their  trail  of  smoke,  and  the  delicate 
line  of  foliage  against  the  sky  on  tlie  far  opposite 
shore  completes  the  outline  of  an  exquisite  landscape. 
Suburban  resorts  much  patronized,  and  reached  by 
frequent  trains,  are  the  old  Spanish  Fort  and  the  West 
End  of  Lake  Pontchartrain,  The  way  lies  through 
cypress  swamp  and  palmetto  thickets,  brilliant  at  cer- 
tain seasons  vf'iih  fleur-de-lis.  At  each  of  these  resorts 
are  restaurants,  dancing-halls,  promenade-galleries,  all 
on  a  large  scale;  boat-houses,  and  semi-tropical  gardens 
very  prettily  laid  out  in  walks  and  labyrinths,  and 
adorned  with  trees  and  flowers.  Even  in  the  heat  of 
summer  at  night  the  lake  is  sure  to  offer  a  breeze,  .and 
with  waltz  music  and  moonlight  and  ices  and  tinkling 
glasses  with  straws  in  them  and  love's  young  dream, 
even  the  emiiiye  globe-trotter  declares  that  it  is  not 
half  bad. 

The  city,  indeed,  offers  opportunity  for  charming 
excursions  in  all  directions.  Parties  are  constantly 
made  up  to  visit  the  river  plantations,  to  sail  up  and 
down  the  stream,  or  to  take  an  outing  across  the  lake, 
or  to  the  many  lovely  places  along  the  coast.    In  the 


New  Orleans. 


57 


winter,  excursions  arc  made  to  these  places,  and  in 
summer  the  woll-to-do  take  the  sea-air  in  cottages,  at 
such  places  as  Mandeville  across  the  lake,  or  at  such 
resorts  on  the  Mississippi  as  Pass  Christian. 

I  crossed  the  lake  one  spring  day  to  the  i)retty 
town  of  ^landeville,  and  then  sailed  up  the  Tche- 
functa  River  to  Covington.  The  winding  Tchefunc- 
ta  is  in  character  like  some  of  the  narrow  Florida 
streams,  has  the  same  luxuriant  overhanging  foliage, 
and  as  many  shy  lounging  alligators  to  the  mile,  and 
is  prettier  by  reason  of  occasional  open  glades  and 
large  moss-draped  live-oaks  and  China-trees.  From 
the  steamer  landing  in  the  woods  wo  drove  three 
miles  through  a  lovely  open  pine  forest  to  the  town. 
Covington  is  one  of  the  oldest  settlements  in  the 
State,  is  the  centre  of  considerable  historic  interest, 
and  the  origin  of  several  historic  families.  The  land 
is  elevated  a  good  deal  above  the  coast-level,  and  is 
consequently  dry.  The  town  has  a  few  roomy  old- 
time  houses,  a  mineral  spring,  some  pleasing  scenery 
along  the  river  that  winds  through  it,  and  not  mucli 
else.  But  it  is  in  the  midst  of  pine  woods,  it  is  shel- 
tered from  all  "  northers,"  it  has  the  soft  air,  but  not 
the  dampness,  of  the  Gulf,  and  is  exceedingly  salubri- 
ous in  all  the  winter  months,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
summer.  It  has  lately  come  into  local  repute  as  a 
health  resort,  although  it  lacks  sufficient  accommoda- 
tions for  the  entertainment  of  many  strangers,  T  was 
told  by  some  New  Orleans  physicians  that  they  re- 
garded it  as  almost  a  specific  for  pulmonary  diseases, 
and  instances  were  given  of  persons  in  what  was  sup- 
posed to  be  advanced  stages  of  lung  and  bronchial 
troubles  who  had  been  apparently  cured  by  a  few 


r^ 


fi 


58 


South  and  West. 


iv 


months'  residence  there ;  and  invalids  are,  I  believe, 
greatly  benefited  by  its  healing,  soft,  and  piny  atmos- 
phere. 

I  have  no  doubt,  from  what  I  hear  and  my  limited 
observation,  that  all  this  coast  about  New  Orleans 
would  bo  a  favorite  winter  resort  if  it  had  hotels  as 
good  as,  for  instance,  that  at  Pass  Christian.  The  re- 
gion has  many  attractions  for  the  idler  and  the  inva- 
lid. It  is,  in  the  first  pb.ce,  interesting;  it  has  a  good 
deal  of  variety  of  scenery  and  of  historicol  interest; 
there  is  excellent  fishing  and  shooting;  and  if  the  vis- 
itor tires  of  the  monotony  of  the  country,  he  can  by  a 
short  ride  on  cars  or  a  steamer  transfer  himself  for  a 
day  or  a  week  to  a  large  and  most  hospitable  city,  to 
society,  the  club,  the  opera,  balls,  parties,  and  every 
variety  of  life  that  his  taste  craves.  The  disadvan- 
tage of  many  Southern  places  to  M'hich  our  Northern 
regions  force  us  is  that  they  arc  uninteresting,  stupid, 
and  monotonous,  if  not  malarious.  It  seems  a  long 
way  from  New  York  to  New  Orleans,  but  I  do  not 
doubt  that  the  region  around  the  city  would  become 
immediately  a  great  winter  resort  if  money  and  en- 
terprise were  enlisted  to  make  it  so. 

New  Orleans  has  never  been  called  a  "strait-laced" 
city;  its  Sunday  is  still  of  the  Continental  type;  but 
it  s'^f^ms  to  me  free  from  the  socialistic  agnosticism 
which  flaunts  itself  more  or  less  in  Cincinnati,  St. 
Louis,  and  C.'iicago;  the  tone  of  leading  Presbyterian 
churches  is  distinctly  Calvinistic,  one  perceives  com- 
paratively little  of  religious  speculation  and  doubt, 
and  so  far  as  I  could  see  there  is  haimony  and  entire 
social  good  feeling  between  the  Catholic  and  Protes- 
tant communions.    Protestant  ladies  assist  at  Catho- 


Nexo  Orleans. 


59 


lio  fiiirs,  and  the  coinitliment  is  returned  by  the  Koci- 
ety  ladies  of  the  Catholic  faith  when  a  Protestant 
good  caiise  is  to  be  furthered  by  a  bazaar  or  a  "  pink 
tea."  Denominational  hues  seem  to  have  little  to  do 
with  soeial  afliliations.  There  may  be  friction  in  the 
management  of  the  great  public  charities,  but  on  the 
surface  there  is  toleration  and  united  good-will.  The 
Catholic  faith  long  had  the  prestige  of  wealth,  family, 
and  power,  and  the  education  of  the  daughters  of 
Protestant  houses  in  convent  schools  tended  to  allay 
prejudice.  Notwithstanding  the  reputation  New  Or- 
leans has  for  gayety  and  even  frivolity — and  no  one 
can  deny  the  fast  and  furious  living  of  ante-bellum 
days — it  possesses  at  bottom  an  old-fashioned  relig- 
ious simplicity.  If  any  one  thinks  that  "faith"  has 
died  out  of  modern  life,  let  him  visit  the  mortuary 
chapel  of  St.  Roch.  In  a  distant  j)art  of  the  town, 
beyond  the  street  of  the  Elysian  Fields,  and  on  Wash- 
ington Avenue,  in  a  district  very  sparsely  built  up,  is 
the  Canipo  Santo  of  the  Catholic  Church  of  the  Holy 
Trinity.  In  this  foreign -looking  cemetery  is  the 
pretty  little  Gothic  Chapel  of  St.  Roch,  having  a  back- 
ground of  common  and  swampy  land.  It  is  a  brown 
stuccoed  edifice,  wholly  open  in  front,  and  was  a  yecr 
or  two  ago  covered  with  beautiful  ivv.  The  small 
■  "li"  L  is  paved  in  white  marble,  the  windows  are 
si  'd  glass,  the  side  walls  are  composed  of  tiers  of 
va  s  where  are  buried  the  members  of  certain  soci- 
etii  ,  and  the  spaces  in  the  wall  and  in  the  altar  area 
are  thickly  covered  with  votive  offerings,  in  wax  and 
in  naive  painting — contributed  by  those  who  have 
been  healed  '  the  intercession  of  the  saints.  Over 
the  altar  is  tl     shrine  of  St.  Roch — a  cavalier,  staff  in 


60 


South  and  West. 


t 


ii'{ 


r; 


hand,  with  his  dog  by  his  side,  the  faithful  animal 
which  accompanied  this  eighth-century  philanthropist 
in  his  visitations  to  the  plague-stricken  people  of  Mu- 
nich. Within  the  altar  rail  are  rows  of  lighted  can- 
dles, tended  and  renewed  by  the  attendant,  placed 
there  by  penitents  or  by  seekers  after  the  favor  of  the 
saint.  On  the  wooden  benches,  kneeling,  are  ladies, 
servants,  colored  women,  in  silent  prayer.  One  ap- 
proaches the  lighted,  picturesque  shrine  through  the 
formal  rows  of  tombs,  and  comes  there  into  an  atmos- 
phere of  peace  and  faith.  It  is  believed  that  miracles 
are  daily  wrought  liere,  and  one  notices  in  all  the 
gardeners,  keepers,  and  attendants  of  the  place  the 
accent  and  demeanor  of  simple  faith.  On  the  wall 
hangs  this  inscription : 

"  0  great  St.  Roch,  deliver  us,  we  beseech  thee,  from  the  scourges  of 
God.  Through  tliy  intercessions  preserve  our  bodies  from  contagious 
diseases,  and  our  souls  from  the  contagion  of  sin.  Obtain  for  us  sa- 
lubrious air;  but,  above  all,  purity  of  heart.  Assist  us  to  make  good 
use  of  health,  to  bear  suffering  with  patience,  and  after  thy  example 
to  live  in  the  practice  of  penitence  and  charity,  that  we  may  one  day 
enjoy  the  happiness  which  thou  hast  merited  by  thy  virtues. 

"  St.  Roch,  pray  for  us. 

"  St.  Roch,  pray  for  us. 

"  St.  Roch,  pray  for  us." 

There  is  testimony  that  many  people,  even  Protes- 
tants, and  men,  have  had  wounds  cured  and  been 
healed  of  diseases  by  prayer  in  this  chapel.  To  this 
distant  shrine  come  ladies  from  all  parts  of  the  city 
to  make  the  "  novena" — the  prayer  of  nine  days,  with 
the  offer  of  the  burning  taper — and  here  daily  resort 
hundreds  to  intercede  for  themsehes  or  their  friends. 
It  is  believed  by  the  damsels  of  this  district  that  if 


JVev)  Orleans. 


61 


they  offer  prayer  daily  in  this  cbapel  tliey  will  have  a 
husbaiul  within  the  year,  and  one  may  see  kneeling 
here  every  evening  these  trustful  devotees  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  human  race.  I  asked  tlic  colored  woman 
who  sold  medals  and  leaflets  and  renewed  the  candles 
if  she  personally  knew  any  persons  Avho  had  been  mi- 
raculously cured  by  prayer,  or  novena,  in  St.  Roch. 
"  Plenty,  sir,  plenty."  And  she  related  many  in- 
stances, which  were  conlirmed  by  votive  offerings  on 
the  walls.  "  Why,"  said  she,  "  there  was  a  friend  of 
mine  who  wanted  a  jilace,  and  could  hear  of  none, 
who  made  a  novena  here,  and  right  away  got  a  place, 
a  good  place,  and  "  (conscious  that  she  Avas  making  an 
astonishing  statement  about  a  New  Orleans  servant) 
"  slie  kept  it  a  whole  year  !" 

"But  one  must  come  in  the  right  spirit,"  I  said. 

"Ah,  indeed.  It  needs  to  believe.  You  can't  fool 
God  !" 

One  might  make  various  studies  of  Xew  Orleans : 
its  commercial  life;  its  methods,  more  or  less  anti- 
quated, of  doing  business,  and  the  leisure  for  talk  that 
enters  into  it;  its  admirable  charities  and  its  mediaeval 
prisons;  its  romantic  French  and  Spanish  history,  still 
lingering  in  the  old  houses,  and  traits  of  family  and 
street  life;  the  city  politics,  wliich  nobody  can  ex- 
plain, and  no  other  city  need  covet;  its  sanitary  con- 
dition, which  needs  an  intelligent  despot  with  plenty 
of  money  and  an  ingenuity  that  can  make  water  run 
uphill ;  its  colored  population — about  a  fourth  of  the 
city — with  its  distinct  social  grades,  its  superstition, 
nonchalant  good-humor,  turn  for  idling  and  basking 
in  the  sun,  slowly  awaking  to  a  sense  of  thrift,  chas- 
tity, truth-speaking,  with  many  excellent  order-loving, 


mi 


62 


South  and  West. 


I 


if 


patriotic  men  and  women,  but  a  mass  that  needs  moral 
training  quite  as  much  as  the  spelling-book  before  it 
can  contribute  to  the  vigor  and  prosperity  of  the  city ; 
its  schools  and  recent  libraries,  and  the  developing 
literary  and  art  taste  which  will  sustain  book-shops 
and  picture-galleries;  its  cuisine,  peculiar  in  its  min- 
gling of  French  and  African  skill,  and  determined 
largely  by  a  market  unexcelled  in  the  quality  of  fish, 
game,  and  fruit — the  fig  alone  Avould  go  far  to  recon- 
cile one  to  four  or  five  months  of  hot  nights;  the  cli- 
matic influence  in  assimilating  races  meeting  there 
from  everv  rejjion  of  the  earth. 

But  whatever  way  we  regard  New  Oilcans,  it  is  in 
its  aspect,  social  tone,  and  character  sui  generis;  its 
civilization  differs  widely  from  that  of  any  other,  and 
it  remains  one  of  the  most  interesting  places  in  the 
republic.  Of  course,  social  life  in  these  days  is  much 
the  same  in  all  great  cities  in  its  observances,  but  that 
of  New  Orleans  is  markedly  cordial,  ingenuous,  w.irm- 
hearted.  I  do  not  imagine  that  it  could  tolerate,  as 
Boston  does,  absolute  freedom  of  local  opinion  on  all 
subjects,  and  undoubtedly  it  is  sensitive  to  criticism; 
but  I  believe  that  it  is  literally  true,  as  one  of  its  citi- 
zens said,  that  it  is  still  more  sensitive  to  kindness. 

The  metropolis  of  the  South-west  has  geographical 
reasons  for  a  great  future.  Louisiana  is  rich  in  allu- 
vial soil,  the  capability  of  which  has  not  yet  been  test- 
ed, except  in  some  localities,  by  skilful  agriculture. 
But  the  prosperity  of  the  city  depends  much  upon 
local  conditions.  Science  and  energy  can  solve  the 
problem  of  drainage,  can  convert  all  the  territory  be- 
tween the  city  and  Lake  Pontchartrain  into  a  verita- 
ble garden,  surpassing  in  fertility  the  flat  environs  of 


r 


New  Orleans. 


63 


the  city  of  Mexico.  And  the  steady  development  of 
common-school  education,  together  with  technical  and 
industrial  schools,  will  create  a  skill  which  will  make 
New  Orleans  the  industrial  and  manufacturing  centre 
of  that  region. 


i 


'I, 


IV. 
A  VOUDOO  DANCE. 


t  '1 

l^-i ' 

H. 

:    m^ 

F 

h  I,   4    V- 


There  was  nothing  mysterious  about  it.  The 
ceremony  took  place  in  broad  day,  at  noon  in  the 
upper  chambers  of  a  small  frame  house  in  a  street 
just  beyond  Congo  Square  and  the  old  Parish  prison 
in  New  Orleans.  It  was  an  incantation  rather  than  a 
dance — a  curious  mingling  of  African  Voudoo  rites 
with  modern  "  spiritualism  "  and  faith-cure. 

The  explanation  of  Voudooism  (or  Vaudouism) 
would  require  a  chapter  by  itself.  It  is  sufficient  to 
say  for  the  purpose  of  this  paper  that  the  barbaric 
rites  of  Voudooism  originated  with  the  Congo  and 
Guinea  negroes,  were  brought  to  San  Domingo,  and 
thence  to  Louisiana.  In  Hayti  the  sect  is  in  full  vig- 
or, and  its  midnight  orgies  have  reverted  more  and 
more  to  the  barbaric  original  in  the  last  twenty-five 
years.  The  wild  dance  and  incantations  are  accom- 
panied by  sacrifice  of  animals  and  occasionally  of  in- 
fants, and  with  cannibalism,  and  scenes  of  most  inde- 
cent license.  In  its  origin  it  is  serpent  worship.  The 
Voudoo  signifies  a  being  all-powerful  on  the  earth, 
who  is,  or  is  represented  by,  a  har-^less  species  of 
serpent  (couleuvre),  and  in  this  belie-  the  sect  per- 
form rites  in  which  the  serpent  is  propitiated.  In 
common  parlance,  the  chief  actor  is  called  the  Voudoo 
— if  a  man,  the  Voudoo  King  ;  if  a  woman,  the  Vou- 
doo Queen.    Some  years  ago  Congo  Square  was  the 


A  Youdoo  Dance. 


65 


scene  of  the  weird  midnight  rites  of  this  sect,  as  un- 
restrained and  barbarous  as  ever  took  place  in  the 
Congo  country.  All  these  semi-public  performances 
have  been  suppressed,  and  all  private  assemblies  for 
this  worship  are  illegal,  and  broken  up  by  the  police 
when  discovered.  It  is  said  in  New  Orleans  that 
Voudooisra  is  a  thing  of  the  past.  But  the  supersti- 
tion remains,  and  I  believe  that  very  few  of  the  col- 
ored people  in  New  Orleans  are  free  from  it — that  is, 
free  from  it  as  a  superstition.  Those  who  repudiate 
it,  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  regard  it  as  only 
evil,  still  ascribe  power  to  the  Voudoo,  to  some  ugly 
old  woman  or  man,  who  is  popularly  believed  to  have 
occult  power  (as  the  Italians  believe  in  the  "evil- 
eye"),  can  cast  a  charm  and  put  the  victims  under  a 
spell,  or  by  incantations  relieve  them  from  it.  The 
power  of  the  Voudoo  is  still  feared  by  many  who  are 
too  intelligent  to  believe  in  it  intellectually.  That 
persons  are  still  Voudooed,  probably  few  doubt;  and 
that  people  are  injured  by  charms  secretly  placed  in 
their  beds,  or  are  bewitched  in  various  ways,  is  common 
belief — more  common  than  the  Saxon  notion  that  it 
is  ill-luck  to  see  the  new  moon  over  the  left  shoulder. 

Although  very  few  white  people  in  New  Orleans 
have  ever  seen  the  performance  I  shall  try  to  de- 
scribe, and  it  is  said  that  the  police  would  break  it 
up  if  they  knew  of  it,  it  takes  place  every  "Wednesday 
at  noon  at  the  house  where  I  saw  it ;  and  there  are 
three  or  four  other  places  in  the  city  where  the  rites 
are  celebrated  sometimes  at  night.  Our  admission 
was  procured  through  a  friend  who  had,  I  suppose, 
vouched  for  our  good  intentions. 

We  were  received  in  the  living-rooms  of  the  house 


66 


South  cmd  West. 


■■i  I 


on  the  ground-floor  by  the  "  doctor,"  a  good-looking 
mulatto  of  middle  age,  clad  in  a  white  shirt  with  gold 
studs,  linen  pantaloons,  and  list  slippers.  He  had  the 
simple-minded  shrewd  look  of  a  "  healing  medium." 
The  interior  was  neat,  though  in  some  confusion  ; 
among  the  rude  attempts  at  art  on  the  walls  was  the 
worst  chromo  print  of  General  Grant  that  was  prob- 
ably ever  made.  There  were  several  negroes  about 
the  door,  many  in  the  rooms  and  in  the  backyard, 
and  all  had  an  air  of  expectation  and  mild  excitement. 
After  we  had  satisfied  the  scruples  of  the  doctor,  and 
signed  our  names  in  his  register,  we  were  invited  to 
ascend  by  a  narrow,  crooked  stair-way  in  the  rear. 
This  led  to  a  small  landing  where  a  dozen  people 
might  stand,  and  from  this  a  door  opened  into  a 
chamber  perhaps  fifteen  feet  by  ten,  where  the  rites 
were  to  take  place  ;  beyond  this  was  a  small  bedroom. 
Around  the  sides  of  these  rooms  were  benches  and 
chairs,  and  the  close  quarters  were  already  well  filled. 

The  assembly  was  perfectly  orderly,  but  a  motley 
one,  and  the  women  largely  outnumbered  the  men. 
There  were  coal-black  negroes,  porters,  and  stevedores, 
fat  cooks,  slender  chamber-maids,  all  shades  of  com- 
plexion, yellow  girls  and  comely  quadroons,  most  of 
them  in  common  servant  attire,  but  some  neatly 
dressed.  And  among  them  were,  to  my  surprise,  sev- 
eral white  people. 

On  one  side  of  the  middle  room  where  we  sat  was 
constructed  a  sort  of  buffet  or  bureau,  used  as  an  altar. 
On  it  stood  an  image  of  the  Virgin  JMary  in  painted 
plaster,  about  two  feet  high,  flanked  by  lighted  can- 
dles and  a  couple  of  cruets,  with  some  other  small 
objects.     On  a  shelf  below  were  two  other  candles, 


A  Youdoo  Dance. 


67 


and  on  this  slielf  and  the  floor  in  front  were  various 
offerings  to  be  used  in  the  rites — plates  of  apples, 
grapes,  bananas,  oranges  ;  dishes  of  sugar,  of  sugar- 
plums ;  a  dish  of  powdered  orris  root,  packages  of 
candles,  bottles  of  brandy  and  of  water.  Two  other 
lighted  candles  stood  on  the  floor,  and  in  front  an 
earthen  bowl.  The  clear  space  in  front  for  the 
dancer  was  not  more  than  four  or  five  feet  square. 

Some  time  was  consumed  in  preparations,  or  in 
waiting  for  the  worshippers  to  assemble.  From  con- 
versation with  those  near  me,  I  found  that  the  doctor 
had  a  reputation  for  healing  the  diseased  by  virtue  of 
his  incantations,  of  removing  "spells,"  of  finding  lost 
articles,  of  ministering  to  the  troubles  of  lovers,  and, 
in  short,  of  doing  very  much  what  clairvoyants  and 
healing  mediums  claim  to  do  in  what  are  called  civil- 
ized communities.  But  failing  to  get  a  very  intelli- 
gent account  of  the  expected  performance  from  the 
negro  woman  next  me,  I  moved  to  the  side  of  the  al- 
tar and  took  a  chair  next  a  girl  of  perhaps  twenty 
years  old,  whose  complexion  and  features  gave  evi- 
dence that  she  was  white.  Still,  finding  her  in  that 
company,  and  there  as  a  participant  in  the  Voudoo 
rites,  I  concluded  that  I  must  be  mistaken,  and  that 
she  must  have  colored  blood  in  her  veins.  Assuming 
the  privilege  of  an  inquirer,  I  asked  her  questions 
about  the  coming  performance,  and  in  doing  so  car- 
ried the  impression  that  she  was  kin  to  the  colored 
race.  But  I  was  soon  convinced,  from  her  manner 
and  her  replies,  that  she  was  pure  white.  She  was  a 
pretty,  modest  girl,  very  reticent,  well-bred,  polite, 
and  civil.  None  of  the  colored  people  seemed  to 
know  who  she  was,  but  she  said  she  had  been  there 


68 


South  and  West. 


f 


m-  M 


n 


before.  She  told  rae,  in  course  of  the  conversation, 
the  name  of  the  street  where  she  lived  (in  the  Amer- 
ican part  of  the  town),  the  private  school  at  which 
she  had  been  educated  (one  of  the  best  in  the  city), 
and  that  she  and  her  parents  were  Episcopalians. 
Whatever  her  trouble  was,  mental  or  physical,  she 
was  evidently  infatuated  with  the  notion  that  this 
Voudoo  doctor  could  conjure  it  away,  and  said  that 
she  thought  he  had  already  been  of  service  to  her. 
She  did  not  communicate  her  difficulties  to  him  or 
speak  to  him,  but  she  evidently  had  faith  that  he 
could  discern  what  every  one  present  needed,  and 
minister  to  them.  When  I  asked  her  if,  with  her 
education,  she  did  not  think  that  more  good  would 
come  to  her  by  confiding  in  known  friends  or  in  regu- 
lar practitioners,  she  wearily  said  that  she  did  not 
know.  After  the  performance  began,  her  intense  in- 
terest in  it,  and  the  light  in  her  eyes,  were  evidence  of 
the  deep  hold  the  superstition  had  upon  her  nature. 
In  coming  to  this  place  she  had  gone  a  step  beyond 
the  young  ladies  of  her  class  who  make  a  novena  at 
St.  Roch. 

While  we  still  Avaited,  the  doctor  and  two  other 
colored  men  called  me  into  the  next  chamber,  and 
wanted  to  be  assured  that  it  was  my  own  name  I  had 
written  on  the  register,  and  that  I  had  no  unfriendly 
intentions  in  being  present.  Their  doubts  at  rest, 
all  was  ready. 

The  doctor  squatted  on  one  side  of  the  altar,  and 
his  wife,  a  stout  woman  of  darker  hue,  on  the  other. 

"  Commen^otiSy''  said  the  woman,  in  a  low  voice.  All 
the  colored  people  spoke  French,  and  French  only,  to 
each  other  and  in  the  ceremony. 


A  Youdoo  Dance. 


69 


Tho  doctor  nodded,  bent  over,  and  <,^1vc  three  sharp 
raps  on  the  floor  with  a  bit  of  wood.  (This  is  the 
usual  opening  of  Voudoo  rites.)  All  the  others  rap- 
ped three  times  on  the  floor  with  their  knuckles.  Any 
one  coming  in  to  join  the  circle  afterwards,  stooped 
and  rapped  three  times.  After  a  moment's  silence, 
all  kneeled  and  repeated  together  in  French  the 
Apostles'  Creed,  and  still  on  their  knees,  they  said  two 
prayers  to  the  Virgin  Mary. 

The  colored  woman  at  the  side  of  the  altar  began  a 
chant  in  a  low,  melodious  voice.  It  was  the  weird 
and  strange  "  Danse  Calinda."  A  tall  negress,  with 
a  bright,  good-natured  face,  entered  the  circle  with 
the  air  of  a  chief  performer,  knelt,  rapped  the  floor, 
laid  an  offering  of  candles  before  the  altar,  with  a 
small  bottle  of  brandy,  sea  jd  herself  beside  the  sing- 
er, and  took  up  in  a  strong,  sweet  voice  the  bizarre 
rhythm  of  the  song.  Nearly  all  those  who  came  in 
had  laid  some  little  offering  before  the  altar.  The 
chant  grew,  the  single  line  was  enunciated  in  stronger 
pulsations,  and  other  voices  joined  in  the  wild  refrain, 

"  Danse  Ciiliiula,  boudoum,  boudouin .' 
Danso  Calinda,  boudoum,  boudoum  '" 

bodies  swayed,  the  hands  kept  time  in  soft  patpatting, 
and  the  feet  in  muffled  accentuation.  The  Voudoo 
arose,  removed  his  slippers,  seized  a  bottle  of  brandy, 
dashed  some  of  the  liquid  on  the  floor  on  each  side  of 
tho  brown  bowl  as  a  libation,  threw  back  his  head  and 
took  a  long  pull  at  the  bottle,  and  then  began  in  the 
open  space  a  slow  measured  dance,  a  rhytlimical 
shuffle,  with  more  movement  of  the  hips  than  of  the 
feet,  backward  and  forward,  round  and  round,  but  ac- 


« 


70 


ISouth  ind  West 


"r  M 


coleratinghis  movement  as  the  time  of  the  song  quick- 
ened and  the  excitement  rose  in  the  room.  The  sing- 
ing became  wikler  and  more  impassioned,  a  strange 
minor  strain,  full  of  savage  pathos  and  longing,  that 
made  it  almost  impossible  for  the  spectator  not  to 
join  in  the  swing  of  its  influence,  while  the  dancer 
wrought  himself  up  into  the  wild  j)assion  of  a  Cairene 
dervish.  Without  a  moment  ceasing  his  rhythmical 
steps  and  his  extravagant  gesticulation,  he  poured 
liquid  into  the  basin,  and  dashing  in  brandy,  ignited 
the  fluid  with  a  match.  The  liquid  flamed  up  before 
the  altar.  He  seized  then  a  bunch  of  caudles,  plunged 
them  into  the  bowl,  held  them  up  all  flaming  with  the 
burning  brandy,  and,  keeping  his  step  to  the  madden- 
ing "  Calinda,"  distributed  them  lighted  to  the  dev- 
otees. In  the  same  way  he  snatched  up  dishes  of 
apples,  grapes,  bananas,  oranges,  deluged  them  with 
burning  brandv,  and  tossed  them  about  the  room  to 
the  eager  and  excited  crowd.  Ilis  hands  were  aflame, 
his  clothes  seemed  to  be  on  fire  ;  he  held  the  burning 
dishes  close  to  his  breast,  apparently  inhaling  the 
flame,  closing  his  eyes  and  swaying  his  head  back- 
ward and  forward  in  an  ecstasy,  the  hips  advancing 
and  receding,  the  feet  still  shuffling  to  the  barbaric 
measure. 

Every  moment  his  own  excitement  and  that  of  the 
audience  increased.  The  floor  was  covered  with  the 
debris  of  the  sacrifice — broken  candy,  crushed  sugar- 
plums, scattered  grapes — and  all  more  or  less  in  flame. 
The  wild  dancer  was  dancing  in  fire  !  In  the  height 
of  his  frenzy  he  grasped  a  large  plate  filled  with 
lump -sugar.  That  was  set  on  fire.  He  held  the 
burning  mass  to  his  breast,  he  swung  it  round,  and 


A  Voudoo  Dance. 


n 


finally,  with  his  hand  extended  under  tlie  bottom  of 
the  plate  (the  plate  only  adhering  to  his  hand  by  the 
rapidity  of  his  circular  motion),  he  spun  around  like 
a  dancing  dervish,  his  eyes  shut,  the  perspiration  pour- 
ing in  streams  from  his  face,  in  a  frenzy.  The  flam- 
ing sugar  scattered  about  the  floor,  and  the  devotees 
scrambled  for  it.  In  intervals  of  the  dance,  though 
the  singing  went  on,  the  various  offerings  which  had 
been  conjured  were  passed  around — bits  of  sugar  and 
fruit  and  orris  powder.  That  wliicli  fell  to  my  share 
I  gave  to  tlie  young  girl  next  me,  whose  eyes  were 
blazing  with  excitement,  though  she  had  remained 
perfectly  tranquil,  and  joined  ncitlier  by  voice  or 
iiands  or  feet  in  the  excitement.  She  put  the  con- 
jured sugar  and  fruit  in  her  pocket,  and  seemed  grate- 
ful to  me  for  relinquishing  it  to  her. 

Before  this  point  liad  been  reached  the  chant  had 
been  changed  for  the  wild  canga,  more  rapid  in  move- 
ment than  the  chanson  africdine : 

*'  Eii !  eh  !  Boiiibu,  hen !  hen  ! 
Ciingiv  bafio  to 
(Junga  moune  (16  ]& 
Canga  do  ki  la 
Canga  li." 

At  intervals  during  the  performance,  when  the 
charm  had  begun  to  work,  the  believers  came  for- 
ward into  the  open  space,  and  knelt  for  "  treatment." 
The  singing,  the  dance,  the  wild  incantation,  went  on 
uninterruptedly;  but  amid  all  his  antics  the  dancer  had 
an  eye  to  business.  The  first  group  that  knelt  Avere 
four  stalwart  men,  three  of  them  white  laborers.  All 
of  them,  I  presume,  had  some  disease  which  they  had 
faith  the  incantation  would  drive  away.     Each  held  a 


72 


South  and  West. 


lighted  candle  in  each  hand.  The  doctor  successively 
extinguiMhcd  each  candle  by  putting  It  in  his  mouth, 
and  performed  a  number  of  antics  of  a  saltatory  sort. 
During  his  dancing  and  whirling  he  frequently  filled 
his  mouth  with  liquid,  and  discharged  it  in  spray,  ex- 
actly as  a  Chinese  laundryman  sprinkles  his  clothes, 
into  the  faces  and  on  the  heads  of  any  man  or  woman 
within  reach.  Those  so  treated  considered  them- 
selves specially  favored.  Having  extinguished  the 
candles  of  the  suppliants,  he  scooped  the  liquid  from 
the  bowl,  flaming  or  not  as  it  might  be,  and  with  his 
hands  vigorously  scrubbed  their  faces  and  heads,  as 
if  he  were  shampooing  them.  While  the  victim  was 
still  sputtering  and  choking  he  seized  him  by  the 
right  hand,  lifted  him  up,  spun  him  round  half  a 
dozen  times,  and  then  sent  him  whirling. 

This  was  substantially  the  treatment  that  all  re- 
ceived who  knelt  in  the  ciicle,  though  sometimes  it 
was  more  violent.  Some  of  them  were  slapped  smart- 
ly upon  the  back  and  the  breast,  and  much  knocked 
about.  Occasionally  a  woman  was  whirled  till  she 
was  dizzy,  and  perhaps  swung  about  in  his  arms  as  if 
she  had  been  a  bundle  of  clothes.  They  all  took  it 
meekly  and  gratefully.  One  little  girl  of  twelve, 
who  had  rickets,  was  banged  about  till  it  seemed  as 
if  every  bone  in  her  body  would  be  broken.  But  the 
doctor  had  discrimination,  even  in  his  wildest  moods. 
Some  of  the  women  were  gently  whirled,  and  the 
conjurer  forbore  either  to  spray  them  from  his  mouth 
or  to  shampoo  them. 

Nearly  all  those  present  knelt,  and  were  whirled 
and  shaken,  and  those  who  did  not  take  this  "  cure  "  I 
suppose  got  the  benefit  of  the  incantation  by  carrying 


A  Voudoo  Dance. 


IS 


away  some  of  the  consecrated  offerings.  Occasion- 
ally a  woman  in  the  whirl  woukl  whisper  somethinj; 
in  the  doctor's  car,  and  receive  from  him  doubtless 
the  counsel  she  needed.  But  generally  the  doctor 
made  no  inquiries  of  liis  patients,  and  they  said  noth- 
ing to  him. 

While  the  wild  cl)anting,  the  rhythmic  movement 
of  hands  and  feet,  the  barbarous  dance,  and  the  fiery 
incantations  were  at  their  height,  it  was  difficult  to 
believe  that  we  were  in  a  civilized  city  of  an  enlight- 
ened republic.  Nothing  indecent  occurred  in  word 
or  gesture,  but  it  was  so  wild  and  bizarre  that  one 
might  easily  imagine  ho  was  in  Africa  or  in  hell. 

As  I  said,  nearly  all  the  participants  were  colored 
people ;  but  in  the  height  of  the  frenzy  one  white 
woman  knelt  and  was  sprayed  and  whirled  with  the 
others.  She  was  a  respectable  married  woman  from 
the  other  side  of  Canal  Street.  I  waited  with  some 
anxiety  to  see  what  my  modest  little  neighbor  would 
do.  She  had  told  me  that  she  should  look  on  and 
take  no  part.  I  hoped  that  the  senseless  antics,  the 
mummery,  the  rough  treatment,  would  disgust  her. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  seance,  when  the  spells  were 
all  woven  and  the  flames  had  subsided,  the  tall,  good- 
natured  negress  motioned  to  me  that  it  was  my  turn 
to  advance  into  the  circle  and  kneel.  I  excused  my- 
self. But  the  young  girl  was  unable  to  resist  longer. 
She  went  forward  and  knelt,  with  a  candle  in  her 
hand.  The  conjurer  was  either  touched  by  her  youth 
and  race,  or  he  had  spent  his  force.  He  gently  lifted 
her  by  one  hand,  and  gave  her  one  turn  around,  and 
she  came  back  to  her  seat. 

The   singing    ceased.      The   doctor's   wife   passed 


■  I 


1' » 

r 


f-'  J 


^it    ,1. 


■■-''•  I 


74 


/S(9w^i^  and  West. 


round  the  hat  for  contributions,  and  tlie  ceremony, 
wliich  had  lasted  nearly  an  hour  and  a  half,  was 
over.  Tiie  doctor  retired  exhausted  \ni\\  tho  violent 
exertions.  As  for  the  patients,  I  trust  they  were  well 
cured  of  rheumatism,  of  fever,  or  whatever  ill  they 
had,  and  that  the  young  ladies  have  either  got  hus- 
bands to  their  mindf=  or  have  escaped  faithless  lovers. 
In  the  breakin'^-  up  I  had  no  opportunity  to  speak  fur- 
ther to  the  interesting  young  white  neophyte;  but  as 
I  saw  her  resuming  her  hat  and  cloak  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  there  Avas  a  strange  excitement  in  her  face, 
and  in  her  eyes  a  light  of  triumph  and  faith.  We 
came  out  by  the  back  way,  and  through  an  alley 
made  our  escape  into  the  sunny  street  and  the  air  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 


%"'¥'■ 


V. 


THE  ACADIAN  LAND. 

If  one  crosses  the  river  from  New  Orleans  to  Al- 
giers, and  takes  Morgan's  Louisiana  and  Texas  Rail- 
way (now  a  |)U"t  of  the  Southern  Pacific  lino),  he  will 
go  west,  with  a  dip  at  first  southerly,  and  will  pass 
tlirougli  a  region  little  attractive  except  to  water-fowl, 
snakes,  and  alligators,  by  an  occasional  rice  plantation, 
an  abandoned  indigo  field,  an  interminable  stretch  of 
cypress  swamps,  thickets  of  Spanish -bayonets,  black 
waters,  rank  and  rampant  vegetation,  vines,  and  water- 
plants  ;  by-and-by  firmer  arable  land,  and  cane  plan- 
tations, many  of  them  forsaken  and  become  thickets 
of  undergrowth,  owing  to  frequent  inundations  and 
the  low  price  of  sugar. 

At  a  distance  of  eighty  miles  jVlorgan  City  is  reach- 
ed, and  the  broad  Atchafalaya  Bayou  is  crossed. 
Hence  is  steamboat  communication  with  New  Orleans 
and  Vera  Cruz.  The  Atchafalaya  Uayou  has  its  ori- 
gin near  the  mouth  of  the  Red  River,  and  diverting 
from  the  Mississ.ppi  most  of  that  great  stream,  it 
niakes  its  tortuous  way  to  the  Gulf,  frecjucntly  ex- 
j)andiiig  into  the  proportions  of  a  lake,  and  giving  this 
region  a  great  deal  niore  water  than  it  needs.  The 
IJayou  Teche,  which  is,  in  fact,  a  lazy  river,  wanders 
down  from  the  rollincr  couiitrv  of  WashiuLftcju  and 
Opelousas,  with  a  great  deal  of  uncertainty  "f  pur- 
pose, but  mainly  south-easterly,  and  parallel  w  ith  the 

THE  PROPERTY  OF 

^ARBOEn  liCHANICS 

INSTITUTE. 


VI 


f  »l 


I: 


76 


South  and  West. 


J  ■•, 


1^ 


f 

s 

1 

t 
! 

I 

\ 

t 

i 
1 

> 

\\ 

Atchafalaya,  and  joins  the  latter  at  Morgan  City. 
Steamers  of  good  size  navigate  it  as  far  as  New  Ibe- 
ria, some  forty  to  fifty  miles,  and  the  railway  follows 
it  to  the  latter  place,  within  sight  of  its  fringe  of  live- 
oaks  and  cotton-woods.  'J^he  region  south  and  west 
of  the  Bayou  Tcche,  a  vast  plain  cut  by  innumerable 
small  bayous  and  streams,  which  have  mostly  a  con- 
nection with  the  bay  of  Cote  Blanche  and  Vermilion 
Bay,  is  the  home  of  the  Nova  Scotia  Acadians. 

The  Acadians  in  1755  made  a  good  exchange,  little 
as  they  thought  so  at  the  time,  of  bleak  Nova  Scotia 
for  these  sunny,  genial,  and  fertile  lands.  They  came 
into  a  land  and  a  climate  suited  to  their  idiosyncra- 
sies, and  which  have  enabled  them  to  preserve  their 
primitive  traits.  In  a  comparative  isolation  from  the 
disturbing  currents  of  modern  life,  they  have  i)re- 
served  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury.  The  immigrants  spread  themselves  abroad 
among  those  bayous,  made  their  homes  wide  apart, 
and  the  traveller  will  nowhere  find — at  least  I  did  not 
— large  and  compact  communities  of  them,  unalloyed 
with  the  American  and  other  elements.  In  leerl,  I  im- 
agine that  they  are  losing,  in  the  general  settlement 
of  the  country,  their  conspicuousncss.  They  still  give 
the  tone,  however,  to  considerable  districts,  as  in  the 
village  and  neighborhood  of  Abbeville.  Some  places, 
like  the  old  town  of  St.  Martinsville,  on  the  Teche, 
once  the  social  capital  of  the  region,  and  entitled,  for 
its  wealth  and  gayety,  the  Petit  Paris,  had  a  large 
element  of  French  who  were  not  Acadians. 

The  Teche  from  Morgan  City  to  New  Iberia  is  a 
deep,  slow,  and  winding  stream,  flowing  through  a  flat 
regif'U  of  sugar  plantations.     It  is  very  picturesque 


}'  i 


The  Acadian  Land. 


77 


by  reason  of  its  tortuousness  and  the  great  spreading 
live-oak  trees,  moss -draped,  that  hang  over  it.  A 
voyage  on  it  is  one  of  the  most  romantic  entertain- 
ments offered  to  the  traveller.  The  scenery  is  peace- 
ful, and  exceedingly  pretty.  There  arc  few  conspicu- 
ous plantations  with  mansions  and  sugar-stacks  of  any 
pretensions,  but  the  panorama  from  the  deck  of  the 
steamer  is  always  pleasing.  There  is  an  air  of  leisure 
and  "afternoon"  about  the  expedition,  which  is  height- 
ened by  the  idle  case  of  the  inhabitants  lounging  at 
the  rude  wharves  and  landing-places,  and  the  patience 
of  the  colored  fishers,  bovs  in  scant  raiment  and  wom- 
on  in  sun-bonnets,  seated  on  the  banks.  Typical  of 
this  universal  contentment  is  the  ancient  colored  man 
stretched  on  a  plank  close  to  the  steamer's  boiler,  ob- 
livious of  the  heat,  apparently  asleep,  with  his  spacious 
mouth  wide  open,  but  softly  singing. 

"Are  you  asleep,  uncle  V" 

"  No,  not  adzackly  asleep,  boss.  I  jcs  wake  up, 
and  thinkin'  how  good  de  Lord  is,  I  couldn't  help 


singm 


?  ?) 


The  panorama  is  always  interesting.  There  are 
wide  silvery  expanses  of  water,  into  which  fall  the 
shadows  of  great  trees.  A  tug  is  dragging  along  a  tow 
of  old  rafts  composed  of  cypress  logs  all  water-soak- 
ed, green  with  weeds  and  gi-tss,  so  that  it  looks  like  a 
floating  garden.  What  pictures  !  Clusters  of  oaks 
on  the  prairie;  a  picturesque  old  cotton-press;  a  house 
tliatchetl  with  i)almettoes ;  rice  -  fields  irrigated  by 
pumps;  darkies,  fit-ld-hands,  men  and  women,  hoeing 
in  the  cane-fields,  giving  stalwart  strokes  that  exhibit 
their  robust  figures ;  an  old  sugar  -  mill  in  ruin  and 
vine-draped;  an  old  begass  chimney  against  the  sky; 


''^iiZ^SSSP 


l»l 


l! 


7S 


South  and  West. 


f     r 

•1- 

^       4 

f     :     ',i* 

an  antique  cotton-press  with  its  mouldtring  roof  sup- 
ported on  timbers;  a  darky  on  a  mule  motionless  on 
the  bank,  clad  in  Attakapas  cloth,  his  slouch  hat  fall- 
ing about  his  head  like  a  roof  from  which  the  rafters 
have  been  withdrawn;  palmettoes,  oaks,  and  funereal 
moss;  lines  of  Spanish  -  bayonets ;  rickety  wharves; 
primitive  boats;  spider -legged  bridges.  Neither  on 
the  Tcche  nor  the  Atchafalav  ,ior  on  the  great  plain 
near  the  Mississippi,  fit  for  amphibious  creatures, 
where  one  standing  on  the  level  wonders  to  see  the 
wheels  of  the  vast  river  steamers  above  him,  appar- 
ently without  cause,  revolving,  is  there  any  lack  of  the 
picturesque. 

New  Iberia,  the  thriving  mart  of  the  region,  which 
has  drawn  away  the  life  from  St.  Martinsville,  ten 
miles  farther  up  the  bayou,  is  a  village  mainly  of 
small  frame  houses,  with  a  smart  court-house,  a  lively 
business  street,  a  few  pretty  houses,  and  some  old- 
time  mansions  on  the  bank  of  the  bayou,  half  smoth- 
ered in  old  rose  gardens,  the  ground  in  the  rear  slop- 
ing to  the  water  under  the  shade  of  gigantic  oaks. 
One  of  them,  which  with  its  outside  staircases  in  the 
pillared  gallery  suggests  Spanish  taste  on  the  outside, 
and  in  the  interior  the  arrangement  of  connecting 
rooms  a  French  chateau,  has  a  self-keeping  rose  gar- 
den, where  one  might  easily  become  sentimental ;  the 
vines  disport  themselves  like  holiday  children,  climb- 
ing the  trees,  the  side  of  the  house,  and  revelling  in 
an  abandon  of  color  and  perfume. 

The  population  is  mixed — Americans,  French,  Ital- 
ians, now  and  then  a  Spaniard  and  even  a  Mexican, 
occasionally  a  basket-making  Attakapas,  and  the  all- 
pervading  person  of  color.     The  darky  is  a  born  fish- 


The  Acadian  Land. 


70 


crman,  in  places  where  fishing  requires  no  exertion, 
and  one  may  see  him  any  hour  seated  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tcche,  especially  the  boy  and  the  sun-bonneted 
woman,  placidly  holding  their  poles  over  the  muddy 
stream,  and  can  study,  if  he  like,  the  black  face  in  ex- 
})Cctation  of  a  bite.  There  too  are  the  washer-women, 
with  their  tubs  and  a  plank  thrust  into  the  water, 
and  a  handkerchief  of  briorht  colors  for  a  turban. 
These  people  somehow  never  fail  to  be  picturesque, 
Avhatever  attitude  they  take,  and  they  are  not  at  all 
self-conscious.  The  groups  on  Sunday  give  an  in- 
terest to  church-going — a  lean  wiiite  horse,  with  a 
man,  his  wife,  and  boy  strung  along  its  backbone,  an 
aged  darky  and  his  wife  seated  in  a  cart,  in  stiff  Sun- 
day clothes  and  tlaming  colors,  the  wheels  of  the  cart 
making  all  angles  with  the  ground,  and  wabbling  and 
creaking  along,  the  whole  party  as  proud  of  its  ap- 
pearance as  Julius  Ctesar  in  a  triumph. 

I  drove  on  Sunday  morning  early  from  Xcw  Iberia 
to  church  at  St.  Martinsville.  It  was  a  lovely  April 
morning.  The  way  Jay  over  fertile  prairies,  past  line 
cnne  plantations,  with  some  irrigation,  and  for  a  dis- 
ta.ice  along  the  pretty  Teche,  shaded  by  great  live- 
oak.-,  and  here  and  there  a  fine  magnolia-tree  ;  a  coun- 
tiy  ANith  few  houses,  and  those  mostly  shanties,  but  a 
sunny,  smiling  land,  loved  of  the  birds.  We  passed 
on  our  left  the  Spanish  Lake,  a  shallow,  irregular 
body  of  wa^er.  My  driver  was  an  ex-Confederate 
soldier,  whose  tramp  Avith  a  musket  through  Virginia 
had  not  greatly  enlightened  him  as  to  what  it  was  all 
about.  As  to  the  Acadians,  however,  he  had  a  de- 
cided opinion,  and  it  was  a  poor  one.  They  are  no 
good.     "  You  ask  them  a  question,  and  they  shrug 


'[  s>1 


I 


^t-y. 


^^F 


13  411 

4?J 


80 


South  and  West. 


%^ 


V4 


iv 


I 


their  shoulders  like  a  tarrapin — don't  know  no  raore'n 
a  dead  alligator  ;  only  language  they  ever  have  is  *  no ' 
and  'what?'" 

If  St.  Martinsville,  once  the  Roat  of  fashion,  retains 
anything  of  its  past  elegance,  its  life  has  de})arted 
from  it.  It  has  stopped  growing  anything  but  old, 
and  yet  it  has  not  much  of  interest  that  is  antique ;  it 
is  a  village  of  small  Avhite  frame  houses,  with  three  or 
four  big  gaunt  brick  structures,  two  stories  and  a  half 
high,  with  galleries,  and  here  and  there  a  Creole  cot- 
tage, the  stairs  running  up  inside  the  galleries,  over 
which  roses  climb  in  profusion. 

I  went  to  breakfast  at  a  French  inn,  kept  by  Ma- 
dame Castillo,  a  large  red-brick  house  on  the  banks 
of  the  Teche,  where  the  live-oaks  cast  shadows  upon 
the  silvery  stream.  It  had,  of  course,  a  double  gal- 
lery. Uelow,  the  waiting-room,  dining-room,  and  gen- 
eral assembly-room  were  paved  with  brick,  and  instead 
of  a  door,  Turkey-red  curtains  hung  in  the  entrance, 
and  blowing  ap*^^,  hospitably  invited  the  stranger 
within.  Thi.  breakfast  was  neatly  served,  the  house 
was  scrupulously  lean,  and  the  guest  felt  the  influ- 
ence of  tiiat  personal  hospitality  which  is  always  so 
pleasing.  Madame  offered  me  a  seat  in  her  pew  in 
church,  and  meantime  a  chair  on  the  upper  gallery, 
which  opened  from  large  square  sleeping  chambers. 
In  that  fresh  morning  I  thought  I  never  had  seen  a 
more  sweet  and  peaceful  place  than  this  gallery. 
Close  to  it  grew  graceful  China-trees  in  full  blossom 
and  odor ;  up  and  down  the  Teche  were  charming 
views  under  the  oaks  ;  only  the  roofs  of  the  town 
could  be  seen  amid  the  foliage  of  China-trees ;  and 
there  was  an  atmosphere  of  repose  in  all  the  scene. 


X    * 


llie  Acadian  Zand. 


SI 


It  was  Easter  morning.  I  felt  that  I  should  like  to 
lipger  there  a  week  in  absolute  forgetfulness  of  the 
world.  French  is  the  ordinary  language  of  the  vil- 
lage, spoken  more  or  less  corruptly  by  all  colors. 

The  Catholic  church,  a  large  and  ugly  structure, 
stands  on  the  plaza,  which  is  not  at  all  like  a  Spanish 
plaza,  but  a  veritable  New  England  "green,"  with 
stores  and  shops  on  all  sides — New  England,  except 
that  the  shops  are  open  on  Sunday.  In  the  church 
apse  is  a  noted  and  not  bad  painting  of  St.  Martin, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  one  aisle  a  vast  bank  of  black 
stucco  clouds,  with  the  Virgin  standing  on  them,  and 
the  legend,  "t/e  sins  Vimmacidee  concej^tion.'^^ 

Country  j^eople  Avere  pouring  into  town  for  the 
Easter  service  and  festivities  —  more  blacks  than 
whites  —  on  horseback  and  in  rickety  carriages,  and 
the  horses  were  hitched  on  either  side  of  the  church. 
Before  service  the  square  was  full  of  lively  young  col- 
ored lads  cracking  Easter-egg^.  Two  meet  and  strike 
together  the  eggs  in  their  hands,  and  the  one  loses 
whose  egg  breaks.  A  tough  shell  is  a  valuable  pos- 
session. The  custom  provokes  a  good  deal  of  larking 
and  merriment.  "While  this  is  going  on,  the  worship- 
pers are  making  their  way  into  the  church  through 
the  throng,  ladies  in  the  neat  glory  of  provincial 
dress,  and  high-stei){)ing,  saucy  colored  l)elles,  yellow 
and  black,  the  blackest  in  the  mosu  radiant  apparel  of 
violent  pink  and  light  blue,  and  now  and  then  a  soci- 
ety favorite  in  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow.  The  centre 
pews  of  the  church  are  reserved  for  the  whites,  the 
seats  of  the  side  aisles  for  the  negroes.  When  mass 
begins,  the  church  is  crowded.  The  boys,  with  occa- 
sional excursions  into  the  vestibule  to  dip  the  finger 

ft   . 


!' 


't  «l 


kf  '.  ■•' 


82 


South  and  West. 


^    »■ 


^ 


I  'I 


in  the  holy-water,  or  perhap  .;ay  a  prayer,  are  still 
winning  and  losing  eggs  on  the  green. 

On  the  gallery  at  the  inn  it  is  also  Sunday.  The 
air  is  full  of  odor.  A  strong  south  wind  begins  to 
l)low.  I  think  the  south  wind  is  the  wind  of  memory 
njid  of  longing.  I  wonder  if  the  gay  spirits  of  the 
last  generation  ever  return  to  the  scenes  of  their  rev- 
elry? Will  they  come  back  to  the  theatre  this  Sun- 
day night,  and  to  the  Grand  Ball  afterwards  ?  The 
.admission  to  both  is  only  twenty-five  cents,  including 
gombo  file. 

From  New  Iberia  southward  towards  Vermilion 
Bay  stretches  a  vast  prairie;  if  it  is  not  absolutely 
flat,  if  it  resembles  the  ocean,  it  is  the  ocean  when  its 
long  swells  have  settled  nearly  to  a  calm.  This  prai- 
rie would  be  monotonous  were  it  not  dotted  with 
small  round  ponds,  like  hand-mirrors  for  the  flitting 
birds  and  sailing  clouds,  were  its  expanse  not  spotted 
with  herds  of  cattle,  scattered  or  clustering  like  fish- 
ing-boats on  a  green  sea,  were  it  not  for  a  cabin  here 
and  there,  a  field  of  cane  or  cotton,  a  garden  plot,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  forests  which  break  the  horizon 
line,  and  send  out  dark  capes  into  the  verdant  plains. 
On  a  gray  day,  or  when  storms  and  fogs  roll  in  from 
the  Gulf,  it  might  be  a  gloomy  region,  but  under  the 
sunlight  and  in  the  spring  it  is  full  of  life  and  color; 
it  has  an  air  of  refinement  and  repose  that  is  very 
welcome.  Besides  the  uplift  of  the  spirit  that  a  wide 
horizon  is  apt  to  give,  one  is  conscious  here  of  the 
neighborhood  of  the  sea,  and  of  the  possibilities  of  ro- 
mantic adventure  in  a  coast  intersected  by  bayous, 
and  the  presence  of  novel  forms  of  animal  and  vege- 
table life,  and  of  a  people  with  habits  foreign  and 


The  Acadian  Land. 


83 


\ 


strange.    There  is  also  a  grateful  sense  of  freedom 
and  expansion. 

Soon,  over  the  plain,  is  seen  on  the  horizon,  ten 
miles  from  New  Iberia,  the  dark  foliage  on  the  island 
of  Petite  Anse,  or  Avery's  Island.  This  unexpected 
upheaval  from  the  marsh,  hounded  by  the  narrow, 
circling  Petite  Anse  Bayou,  rises  into  the  sky  one 
hundred  and  eighty  feet,  and  has  the  effect  in  this 
flat  expanse  of  a  veritable  mountain,  comparatively  a 
surprise,  like  Pike's  Peak  seen  fi  ;i  the  elevation  of 
Denver.  Perhaps  nowhere  else  would  a  hill  of  one 
liundred  and  eighty  feet  make  such  an  impression  on 
the  mind.  Crossing  the  bayou,  where  alligators  sun 
themselves  and  eye  with  affection  the  colored  people 
angling  at  the  bridge,  and  passing  a  long  causeway 
over  the  marsh,  the  firm  land  of  the  island  is  reached. 
This  island,  which  is  a  sort  of  geological  puzzle,  has  a 
verv  uneven  surface,  and  is  some  two  and  a  half  miles 
long  by  one  mile  broad.  It  is  a  little  kingdom  in  it- 
self, capable  of  producing  in  its  soil  and  adjacent  wa- 
ters nearly  everything  one  desires  of  the  necessaries 
of  life.  A  portion  of  the  island  is  devoted  to  a  cane 
l)lantation  and  sugar- works ;  a  part  of  it  is  covered 
with  forests ;  and  on  the  lowlands  and  gentle  ^-lopes, 
besides  thickets  of  palmetto,  are  gigantic  live-oaks, 
moss-draped  trees  monstrous  in  girth,  and  towering 
into  the  sky  with  a  vast  spread  of  branches.  Scarcely 
anywhere  else  will  one  see  a  nobler  growth  of  these 
stately  trees.  In  a  depression  is  the  famous  salt- 
mine, unique  in  quality  and  situation  in  the  world. 
Here  is  grown  and  put  up  the  Tobasco  pepper;  here, 
amid  fields  of  clover  and  flowers,  a  large  apiary  flour- 
ishes.    Stones  of  some  value  for  ornament  are  found. 


?!  .' 


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South  and  West. 


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r     I 


Indeed,  I  should  not  be  surprised  at  anything  turning 
up  tlierc,  for  I  am  told  that  good  kaoline  has  been 
discovered;  and  about  the  residences  of  the  hospitable 
proprietors  roses  bloom  in  abundance,  the  China-treo 
blossoms  sweetly,  and  the  mocking-bird  sings. 

But  better  than  all  these  things  I  think  I  like  the 
view  from  the  broad  cottage  ])iazzas,  and  I  like  it  best 
when  the  salt  breeze  is  strong  enough  to  sweep  away 
the  coast  mosquitoes — a  most  undesirable  variety.  I 
do  not  know  another  view  of  its  kind  for  extent  and 
color  comparable  to  that  from  this  hill  over  the  wa- 
ters seaward.  The  ex})anso  of  luxuriant  grass,  brown, 
golden,  reddish,  in  patches,  is  intersected  by  a  net- 
work of  bayous,  tvhich  gleam  like  silver  in  the  sun, 
or  trail  like  dark  fabulous  serpents  under  a  cloudy 
sky.  The  scene  is  limited  only  by  the  power  of  the 
eye  to  meet  the  sky  line.  Vast  and  level,  it  is  con- 
stantly changing,  almost  in  motion  with  life ;  the 
long  grass  and  weeds  run  like  waves  when  the  wind 
blows,  great  shadows  of  clouds  pass  on  its  surface, 
alternating  dark  masses  with  vivid  ones  of  sunlight; 
fishing-boats  and  the  masts  of  schooners  creep  along 
the  threads  of  water ;  when  the  sun  goes  down,  a  red 
globe  of  fire  in  the  Gulf  mists,  all  the  expanse  is  warm 
and  i;uddy,  and  the  waters  sparkle  like  jewels ;  and  at 
night,  under  the  great  field  of  stars,  marsh  fires  here 
and  there  give  a  sort  of  lurid  splendor  to  the  scene. 
In  the  winter  it  is  a  temperate  spot,  and  at  all  times 
of  the  year  it  is  blessed  by  an  invigorating  sea- 
bre^^e. 

Those  who  have  enjoyed  the  charming  social  life  and 
the  unbounded  hospitality  of  the  family  who  inhabit 
this  island  may  envy  them  their  paradisiacal  home, 


'i 


The  Acadian  Zand. 


85 


but  they  would  be  able  to  select  none  others  so 
worthy  to  enjoy  it. 

It  is  said  that  the  Attakapas  Indians  are  shy  of  this 
island,  having  a  legend  that  it  was  the  scene  of  a 
great  catastrophe  to  their  race.  AVhether  this  catas- 
tro]>ho  has  any  connection  with  the  upheaval  of  the 
salt  mountain  I  do  not  knoM'.  Many  stories  are  cur- 
rent in  this  region  in  regard  to  the  discovery  of  this 
deposit.  A  little  over  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  it 
was  unsuspected.  The  presence  of  salt  in  the  water 
of  a  small  spring  led  somebody  to  dig  in  that  place, 
and  at  the  depth  of  sixteen  feet  below  the  surface 
solid  salt  was  struck.  In  stripping  away  the  soil  sev- 
eral relics  of  human  workmanship  came  to  light, 
among  them  stone  implements  and  a  woven  basket, 
exactly  such  as  the  Attakapas  make  now.  This  bas- 
ket, found  at  the  depth  of  sixteen  feet,  lay  upon  the 
salt  rock,  and  was  in  perfect  preservation.  Half  of 
it  can  now  be  seen  in  the  Smithsonian  Institution.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  war  great  quantities  of  salt  were 
taken  from  this  mine  for  the  use  of  the  Confederacy. 
But  this  supply  was  cut  off  by  the  Unionists,  who  at 
first  sent  gunboats  up  the  bayou  within  shelling  dis- 
tance, and  at  length  occupied  it  with  troops. 

The  ascertained  area  of  the  mine  is  several  acres; 
the  depth  of  the  deposit  is  unknown.  The  first  shaft 
was  sunk  a  hundred  feet;  below  this  a  shaft  of  sev- 
enty feet  fails  to  find  any  limit  to  the  salt.  The  ex- 
cavation is  already  large.  Descending,  the  visitor 
enters  vast  cathedral -like  chambers;  the  sides  are 
solid  salt,  sparkling  with  crystals;  the  floor  is  solid 
salt;  the  roof  is  solid  salt,  supported  on  pillars  of  salt 
left  by  the  excavators,  forty  or  perhaps  sixty  feet 


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Photographic 

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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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South  and  West. 


square.  When  the  interior  is  lighted  by  dynamite  the 
effect  is  superbly  weird  and  grotesque.  The  salt  is 
blasted  by  dynamite,  loaded  into  cars  which  run  en 
rails  to  the  elevator,  hoisted,  and  distributed  into  the 
crushers,  and  from  the  crushers  directly  into  the  bags 
for  shipment.  The  crushers  differ  in  crushing  capac- 
ity, some  producing  fine  and  others  coarse  salt.  No 
bleaching  or  cleansing  process  is  needed;  the  salt  is 
almost  absolutely  pure.  Large  blocks  of  it  are  sent 
to  the  Western  plains  for  "cattle  licks."  The  mine 
is  connected  by  rail  with  the  main  line  at  New  Iberia. 
Across  the  marshes  and  bayous  eight  miles  to  the 
west  from  Petite  Anse  Island  rises  Orange  Island,  fa- 
mous for  its  orange  plantation,  but  called  Jefferson 
Island  since  it  became  the  property  and  home  of 
Joseph  Jefferson.  Not  so  high  as  Petite  Anse,  it  is 
still  conspicuous  with  its  crown  of  dark  forest.  From 
a  high  point  on  Petite  Anse,  through  a  lovely  vista  of 
trees,  with  flowering  cacti  in  the  foreground,  Jeffer- 
son's house  is  a  white  spot  in  the  landscape.  We 
reached  it  by  a  circuitous  drive  of  twelve  miles  over 
the  prairie,  sometimes  in  and  sometimes  out  of  the 
water,  and  continually  diverted  from  our  course  by 
fences.  It  is  a  good  sign  of  the  thrift  of  the  race, 
and  of  its  independence,  that  the  colored  people  have 
taken  up  or  bought  little  tracts  of  thirty  or  forty 
acres,  put  up  cabins,  and  new  fences  round  their  do- 
mains regardless  of  the  travelling  public.  We  zig- 
zagged all  about  the  country  to  get  round  these  little 
enclosures.  At  one  place,  where  the  main  road  was 
bad,  a  thrifty  Acadian  had  se^  up  a  toll  of  twerty- 
five  cents  for  the  privilege  of  passing  through  his 
premises.    The  scenery  was  pastoral   and  pleasing. 


TJie  Acadian  La/ad. 


87 


There  were  frequent  round  ponds,  brilliant  with  lilies 
Mid  JleurS'de-liSj  and  hundreds  of  cattle  feeding  on  the 
prairie  or  standing  in  the  water,  and  generally  of  a 
dun-color,  made  always  an  agreeable  picture.  The 
monotony  was  broken  by  lines  of  trees,  by  cape-like 
woods  stretching  into  the  plain,  and  the  horizon  line 
was  always  fine.  Great  variety  of  birds  enlivened 
the  landscape,  game  birds  abounding.  There  was  the 
lively  little  nonpareil,  which  seems  to  change  its  col- 
or, and  is  red  and  green  and  blue,  I  believe  of  the 
oriole  family,  the  papabotte,  a  favorite  on  New  Or- 
leans tables  in  the  autumn,  snipe,  killdee,  the  cherooke 
(snipe?),  the  meadow -lark,  and  quantities  of  teal 
ducks  in  the  ponds.  These  little  ponds  are  called 
"bull -holes."  The  traveller  is  told  that  they  are 
started  in  this  watery  soil  by  the  pawing  of  bulls, 
and  gradually  enlarged  as  the  cattle  frequent  them. 
He  remembers  that  he  has  seen  similar  circular  ponds 
in  the  North  not  made  by  bulls. 

Mr.  Jefferson's  residence — a  pretty  rose-vine-covered 
cottage — is  situated  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  overlook- 
ing a  broad  plain  and  a  vast  stretch  of  bayou  country. 
Along  one  side  of  his  home  enclosure  for  a  mile  runs 
a  superb  hedge  of  Chickasaw  roses.  On  the,  slope 
back  of  the  house,  and  almost  embracing  it,  is  a  mag- 
nificent grove  of  live-oaks,  great  gray  stems,  and  the 
branches  hung  with  heavy  masses  of  moss,  which 
swing  in  the  wind  like  the  pendent  boughs  of  the 
willow,  and  with  something  of  its  sentimental  and 
mournful  suggestion.  The  recesses  of  this  forest  are 
cool  and  dark,  but  upon  ascending  the  hill,  suddenly 
bursts  upon  the  view  under  the  trees  a  most  lovely 
lake  of  clear  blue  water.    This  lake,  which  may  be 


it" 


88 


South  and  West. 


Lll 

1 

i 

Hah 

.11 

1 

1  i 

i.: 


a  mile  long  and  half  a  mile  broad,  is  called  Lake 
Peigneur,  from  its  fanciful  resemblance,  I  believe,  to 
a  wool-comber.  The  shores  are  wooded.  On  the  isl- 
and side  the  bank  is  precipitous ;  on  the  opposite 
shore  amid  the  trees  is  a  hunting-lodge,  and  I  believe 
there  are  plantations  on  the  north  end,  but  it  is  in  as- 
pect altogether  solitary  and  peaceful.  But  the  island 
did  not  want  life.  The  day  was  brilliant,  wiih  a  deep 
blue  sky  and  high-sailing  fleecy  clouds,  and  it  seemed 
a  sort  of  animal  holiday :  squirrels  chattered  ;  cardi- 
nal-birds flashed  through  the  green  leaves;  there 
flitted  about  the  red-winged  blackbird,  blue  jays,  red- 
headed woodpeckers,  thrushes,  and  occasionally  a  rain- 
crow  crossed  the  scene  ;  high  overhead  sailed  the 
heavy  buzzards,  describing  great  aerial  circles ;  and 
off  in  the  still  lake  the  ugly  heads  of  alligators  were 
toasting  in  the  sun. 

It  was  very  pleasant  to  sit  on  the  wooded  point,  en- 
livened by  all  this  animal  activity,  looking  off  upon 
the  lake  .and  the  great  expanse  of  marsh,  over  which 
came  a  refreshing  breeze.  There  was  great  variety 
of  forest  -  trees.  Besides  the  live-ojvks,  in  one  small 
area  I  noticed  the  water-oak,  red-oak,  pin-oak,  the  elm, 
the  cypress,  the  hackberry,  and  the  pecan  tree. 

This  point  is  a  favorite  rendezvous  for  the  buzzards. 
Before  I  reached  it  I  heard  a  tremendous  whirring  in 
the  air,  and,  lo  I  there  upon  the  oaks  were  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  buzzards.  Upon  one  dead  tree,  vast, 
gaunt,  and  bleached,  they  had  settled  in  black  masses. 
When  I  came  near  they  rose  and  flew  about  with 
clamor  and  surprise,  momentarily  obscuring  the  sun- 
light. With  these  unpleasant  birds  consorted  in  un- 
clean fellowship  numerous  long-necked  water-turkeys. 


^  ■!■ 


T?ie  Acadian  Land. 


80 


Dor6  would  have  liked  to  introduce  into  one  of  his 
melodramatic  pictures  this  helpless  dead  tree,  extend- 
ing its  gray  arms  loaded  with  these  hlack  scavengers. 
It  needed  the  blue  sky  and  blue  lake  to  prevent  the 
scene  from  being  altogether  uncanny.  I  remember 
still  the  harsh,  croaking  noise  of  the  buzzards  and  the 
water-turkeys  when  they  were  disturbed,  and  the  flap- 
ping of  their  funereal  wings,  and  perhaps  the  alliga- 
tors lying  off  in  the  lake  noted  it,  for  they  grunted 
and  bellowed  a  response.  But  the  birds  sang  merrily, 
the  wind  blew  softly ;  there  was  the  repose  as  of  a 
far  country  undisturbed  by  man,  and  a  silvery  tone 
on  the  water  and  all  the  landscape  that  rctined  the 
whole. 

If  the  Acadians  can  anywhere  be  seen  in  the  pros- 
perity of  their  primitive  simplicity,  I  fancy  it  is  in 
the  parish  of  Vermilion,  in  the  vicinity  of  Abbeville 
and  on  the  Bayou  Tigre.  Here,  among  the  intricate 
bayous  that  are  their  highways  and  supply  them  with 
the  poorer  sort  of  fish,  and  the  fair  meadows  on  which 
their  cattle  pasture,  and  where  they  grow  nearly  ev- 
erything their  simple  habits  require,  they  have  for 
over  a  century  enjoyed  a  quiet  existence,  practically 
undisturbed  by  the  agitations  of  modern  life,  ignorant 
of  its  progress.  History  makes  their  departure  from 
the  comparatively  bleak  meadows  of  Grand  Pre  a 
cruel  hardship,  if  a  political  necessity.  But  they 
made  a  very  fortunate  exchange.  Nowhere  else  on 
the  continent  could  they  so  well  have  preserved  their 
primitive  habits,  or  found  climate  and  soil  so  suited 
to  their  humor.  Others  have  exhaustively  set  forth  the 
history  and  idiosyncrasies  of  this  peculiar  people ;  it 
is  in  my  way  only  to  tell  what  I  saw  on  a  spring  day. 


90 


South  and  West. 


:< 


r    ! 


i< 


To  reach  tbo  heart  of  this  abode  of  contented  and 
perhaps  wise  ignorance  we  took  boats  early  one  morn- 
ing at  Petite  Anse  Island,  while  the  dew  was  still 
heavy  and  the  birds  were  at  matins,  and  rowed  down 
the  Petite  Anse  Bayou.  A  stranger  would  surely  be 
lost  in  these  winding,  branching,  interlacing  streams. 
Evangeline  and  her  lover  might  have  passed  each 
other  unknown  within  hail  across  these  marshes.  The 
party  of  a  dozen  people  occupied  two  row-boats. 
Among  them  were  gentlemen  who  knew  the  route, 
but  the  reserve  of  wisdom  as  to  what  bayous  and  cut- 
offs were  navigable  was  an  ancient  ex-slave,  now  a 
voter,  who  responded  to  the  name  of  "  Honorable  " — 
a  weather-beaten  and  Aveather-wisc  darky,  a  redoubt- 
able fisherman,  whose  memory  extended  away  beyond 
the  war,  and  played  familiarly  about  the  person  of 
Lafayette,  with  whom  he  had  been  on  agreeable  terms 
in  Charleston,  and  who  dated  his  narratives,  to  our 
relief,  not  from  the  war,  but  from  the  year  of  some 
great  sickness  on  the  coast.  From  the  Petite  Anse 
we  entered  the  Carlin  Bayou,  and  wound  through  it 
is  needless  to  say  what  others  in  our  tortuous  course. 
In  the  fresh  morning,  with  the  salt  air,  it  was  a  voy- 
age of  delight.  Mullet  were  jumping  in  the  glassy 
stream,  perhaps  disturbed  by  the  gar-fish,  and  alliga- 
tors lazily  slid  from  the  reedy  banks  into  the  water  at 
our  approach.  All  the  marsh  was  gay  with  flowers, 
vast  patches  of  the  XAmg  fleur-de-lis  intermingled  with 
the  exquisite  white  spider-lily,  nodding  in  clusters  on 
long  stalks ;  an  amaryllis  (pancratium),  its  pure  half- 
disk  fringed  with  delicate  white  filaments.  The  air 
was  vocal  with  the  notes  of  birds,  the  nonpareil  and  the 
meadoT7-lark,  and  most  conspicuous  of  all  the  )iand- 


)< 


The  Acadian  Land. 


91 


somo  boat  -  tail  grackic,  a  blackbird,  which  alighted 
on  the  slender  dead  reeds  that  swayed  with  his 
weight  as  he  poured  forth  his  song.  Sometimes  the 
bayou  narrowed  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  row  with 
the  oars,  and  poling  was  resorted  to,  and  the  current 
was  swift  and  strong.  At  such  passes  we  saw  only 
the  banks  with  nodding  Howers,  and  the  reeds,  with 
the  blackbirds  singing,  against  the  sky.  Again  we 
emerged  into  placid  reaches  overhung  by  gigantic 
live-oaks  and  fringed  with  cypress.  It  was  enchant- 
ing. But  the  way  was  not  quite  solitary.  Numerous 
fishing  parties  were  encountered,  boats  on  their  way 
to  the  bay,  and  now  and  then  a  party  of  stalwart  men 
drawing  a  net  in  the  bayou,  their  clothes  being  de- 
posited on  the  banks.  Occasionally  a  large  schooner 
was  seen,  tied  to  the  bank  or  slowly  working  its  way, 
and  on  one  a  whole  family  was  domesticated.  There 
is  a  good  deal  of  queer  life  hidden  in  these  bayous. 

After  passing  through  a  narrow*  artificial  canal,  we 
came  into  the  Bayou  Tigre,  and  landed  for  breakfast 
on  a  greensward,  with  meadow-land  and  signs  of  hab- 
itations in  the  distance,  under  spreading  live-oaks. 
Under  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  these  trees,  close 
to  the  stream,  we  did  not  spread  our  tablo-cloth  and 
shawls,  because  a  large  moccason  snake  was  seen  to 
glide  under  the  roots,  and  we  did  not  .know  but  that 
his  modesty  was  assumed,  and  ho  might  join  the 
breakfast  party.  It  is  said  that  these  snakes  never 
attack  any  one  who  has  kept  all  the  ten  command- 
ments from  his  youth  up.  Cardinal-birds  made  the 
wood  gay  for  us  while  wc  breakfasted,  and  we  might 
havQ  added  plenty  of  partridges  to  our  menu  if  we 
had  been  armed. 


i 


99 


South  and  West. 


'!) 


Resuming  our  voyage,  wo  presently  entered  the  in- 
habited part  of  the  bayou,  among  cultivated  fields, 
and  made  our  first  call  on  the  Thibodeaux.  They  had 
been  expecting  us,  and  Andonia  came  down  to  the 
landing  to  welcome  us,  and  with  a  formal,  pretty 
courtesy  led  the  way  to  the  house.  Does  the  reader 
happen  to  remember,  say  in  New  England,  say  fifty 
years  ago,  the  sweetest  maiden  lady  in  the  village, 
prim,  staid,  full  of  kindness,  the  proportions  of  the 
figure  never  quite  developed,  with  a  row  of  small 
corkscrew  curls  about  her  serene  forehead,  and  all  the 
juices  of  life  that  might  have  overflowed  into  the  life 
of  others  somehow  withered  into  the  sweetness  of  her 
Avistful  face  ?  Yes;  a  little  timid  and  appealing,  and 
yet  trustful,  and  in  a  scant,  quaint  gown  ?  Well,  An- 
donia was  never  married,  and  she  had  such  curls,  and 
a  high-waisted  gown,  and  a  kerchief  folded  across  her 
breast;  and  when  she  spoke  it  was  in  the  language  of 
France  as  it  is  rendered  in  Acadia. 

The  house,  like  all  in  this  region,  stands  upon  blocks 
of  wood,  is  in  appearance  a  frame  house,  but  the  walls 
between  timbers  are  of  concrete  mixed  with  moss, 
and  the  same  inside  as  out.  It  had  no  glass  in  the 
windows,  which  were  closed  with  solid  shutters.  Upon 
the  rough  walls  were  hung  sacred  pictures  and  other 
crudely  colored  prints.  The  furniture  was  rude  and 
apparently  home-made,  and  the  whole  interior  was  as 
painfully  neat  as  a  Dutch  parlor.  Even  the  beams 
overhead  and  ceiling  had  been  scrubbed.  Andonia 
showed  us  with  a  blush  of  pride  her  neat  little  sleep- 
ing-room, with  its  souvenirs  of  affection,  and  perhaps 
some  of  the  dried  flowers  of  a  possible  romance,  and 
the  ladies  admired  the  finely  woven  white  counterpane 


The  Acadian  Land. 


93 


on  the  bed.  Andonia'a  married  sister  was  a  large, 
handsome  woman,  smiling  and  prosperous.  There 
were  children  and,  I  think,  a  baby  about,  besides  Mr. 
Thibodeaux.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindlj'  man- 
ner of  these  people.  Andonia  showed  us  how  they 
card,  weave,  and  spin  the  cotton  out  of  which  their 
blankets  and  the  jean  for  their  clothing  are  made. 
They  use  the  old-fashioned  hand-cards,  spin  on  a  little 
wheel  with  a  foot  -  treadle,  have  the  most  primitive 
warping-bars,  and  weave  most  laboriously  on  a  rude 
loom.  But  the  cloth  they  make  will  wear  forever,  and 
the  colors  they  use  are  all  fast.  It  is  a  great  pleasure, 
M-e  might  almost  say  shock,  to  encounter  such  honest 
work  in  these  times.  The  Acadians  grow  a  yellow  or 
nankeen  sort  of  cotton  which,  without  requiring  any 
dye,  is  woven  into  a  handsome  yellow  stuff.  When 
we  departed  Andonia  slipped  into  the  door-yard,  and 
returned  with  a  rose  for  each  of  us.  I  fancied  she 
was  loath  to  have  us  go,  and  that  the  visit  was  an 
event  in  the  monotony  of  her  single  life. 

Embarking  again  on  the  placid  stream,  we  moved 
along  through  a  land  of  peace.  The  houses  of  the 
Acadians  are  scattered  along  the  bayou  at  considera- 
ble distances  apart.  The  voyager  seems  to  be  in  an 
unoccupied  country,  when  suddenly  the  turn  of  the 
stream  shows  him  a  farm-house,  with  its  little  landing- 
wharf,  boats,  and  perhaps  a  schooner  moored  at  the 
bank,  and  behind  it  cultivated  fields  and  a  fringe  of 
trees.  In  the  blossoming  time  of  the  year,  when  the 
birds  are  most  active,  these  scenes  are  idyllic.  At  a 
bend  in  the  bayou,  where  a  tree  sent  its  horizontal 
trurk  half  across  it,  we  made  our  next  call,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Vallet,  a  large  frame  house,  and  evi- 


M 


South  and  West. 


I  i'«f 


If 


!l 


'.} 


dcntly  the  abode  of  a  man  of  means.  The  house  was 
ceiled  outside  and  inside  with  native  woods.  As  usual 
in  this  region,  the  premises  were  not  as  orderly  as 
those  about  some  Northern  farm-houses,  but  the  inte- 
rior of  the  house  was  spotlessly  clean,  and  in  its  polish 
and  barrenness  of  ornament  and  of  appliances  of  com- 
fort suggested  a  Brittany  home,  while  its  openness 
and  the  broad  veranda  spoke  of  a  genial  climate.  Our 
call  here  was  brief,  for  a  sick  man,  very  ill,  they  said, 
lay  in  the  front  room — a  stranger  who  had  been  over- 
taken with  fever,  and  was  being  cared  for  by  these 
kind-hearted  people. 

Other  calls  were  made — this  visiting  by  boat  recalls 
Venice — but  the  end  of  our  voyage  was  the  plantation 
of  Simonette  Le  Blanc,  a  sturdy  old  man,  a  sort  of  pa- 
triarch in  this  region,  the  centre  of  a  very  large  fami- 
ly of  sons,  daughters,  and  grandchildren.  The  resi- 
dence, a  rambling  story-and-a-half  house,  grown  by 
accretions  as  more  room  was  needed,  calls  for  no  com- 
ment. It  was  all  very  i)lain,  and  contained  no  books, 
nor  any  adornments  except  some  family  photographs, 
the  poor  work  of  a  travelling  artist.  But  in  front,  on 
the  bayou,  Mr.  Lc  Blanc  had  erected  a  grand  ball- 
room, which  gave  an  air  of  distinction  to  the  place. 
This  hall,  which  had  benches  along  the  wall,  and  at 
one  end  a  high  dais  for  the  fiddlers,  and  a  little  counter 
where  the  gombo  file  (the  common  refreshment)  is 
served,  had  an  air  of  gayety  by  reason  of  engravings 
cut  from  the  illustrated  papers,  and  was  shown  with 
some  pride.  Here  neighborhood  dances  take  place 
once  in  two  wcv-lfs,  and  a  grand  ball  was  to  come  oflP 
on  Easter-Sunday  night,  to  which  we  were  urgently 
invited  to  come. 


U 


The  Acadian  Zand. 


96 


Simonctto  Lo  Blanc,  with  several  of  his  sons,  had 
returned  at  midnight  from  an  expedition  to  Vermil- 
ion Bay,  where  they  had  been  camping  for  a  coupU; 
of  weeks,  fishing  and  taking  oysters.  Working  tlio 
schooner  through  the  bayou  at  night  had  been  fatigu- 
ing, and  then  there  was  supper,  and  all  the  news  of 
the  fortnight  to  be  talked  over,  so  that  it  was  four 
o'clock  before  the  house  was  at  rest,  but  neither  the 
hale  old  man  nor  his  stalwart  sons  seemed  the  worse 
for  the  adventure.  Such  trips  are  not  uncommon,  for 
these  people  seem  to  have  leisure  for  enjoyment,  and 
vary  the  toil  of  the  plantation  with  the  pleasures  of 
fishinff  and  lazv  navigation.  But  to  the  women  and 
the  home-stayers  this  was  evidently  an  event.  The 
men  had  been  to  the  outer  world,  and  brought  back 
with  them  the  gossip  of  the  bayous  and  the  simple 
incidents  of  the  camping  life  on  the  coast.  "There 
was  a  great  deal  to  talk  over  that  had  ha{)pened  in  a 
fortnight,"  said  Simonette — he  and  one  of  his  sons 
spoke  English.  I  do  not  imagine  that  the  talk  was 
about  politics,  or  any  of  the  events  that  seem  impor- 
tant in  other  portions  of  the  United  States,  only  the 
faintest  echoes  of  which  ever  reach  this  secluded  place. 
This  is  a  purely  domestic  and  patriarchal  community, 
where  there  are  no  books  to  bring  in  agitating  doubts, 
and  few  newspapers  to  disquiet  the  nerves.  The  only 
matter  of  politics  broached  was  in  regard  to  an  appro- 
priation by  Congress  to  improve  a  cut-off  between 
two  bayous.  So  far  as  I  could  learn,  the  most  intelli- 
gent of  these  people  had  no  other  interest  in  or  con- 
cern about  the  Government.  There  is  a  neighborhood 
school  where  English  is  taught,  but  no  church  nearer 
than  Abbeville,  six  miles  away.     I  should  not  describe 


06 


South  and  West. 


»H 


\[ 


I  J 


i 


i 


the  population  as  fanatically  religious,  nor  a  church- 
^oing  one  except  on  special  days.  Hut  by  all  accounts 
it  \H  moral,  orderly,  sociable,  fond  of  dancing,  thrifty, 
and  conservative. 

The  Acadians  arc  fond  of  their  homes.  It  is  not 
the  fashion  for  the  young  people  to  go  away  to  better 
their  condition.  Few  young  men  have  ever  been  as 
far  from  homo  as  New  Orleans ;  they  marry  young, 
and  settle  down  near  the  homestead.  Mr.  Le  lilanc 
has  a  colony  of  his  descendants  about  him,  within 
hail  from  his  door.  It  must  be  large,  and  his  race 
must  be  prolific,  judging  by  the  number  of  small  chil- 
dren who  gathered  at  the  homestead  to  have  a  sly 
peep  at  the  strangers.  They  took  small  interest  in 
the  war,  and  it  had  few  attractions  for  them.  The 
conscription  carried  away  many  of  their  young  men, 
but  I  am  told  they  did  not  make  very  good  soldiers, 
not  because  they  were  not  stalwart  and  brave,  but 
because  they  were  so  intolerably  homesick  that  they 
deserted  whenever  they  had  a  chance.  The  men 
whom  we  saw  were  most  of  them  fine  athletic  fellows, 
with  honest,  dark,  sun  -  browned  faces  ;  some  of  the 
children  were  very  pretty,  but  the  women  usually 
showed  the  effects  of  isolation  and  toil,  and  had  tho 
common  plainness  of  French  peasants.  They  are  a 
self-supporting  community,  raise  their  own  cotton, 
corn,  and  sugar,  and  for  the  most  part  manufacture 
their  own  clothes  and  articles  of  household  use. 
Some  of  the  cotton  jeans,  striped  with  blue,  indigo- 
dyed,  made  into  garments  for  men  and  women,  and 
the  blankets,  plain  yellow  (from  the  native  nankeen 
cotton),  curiously  clouded,  are  very  pretty  and  serv- 
iceable.    Further  than  that  their  habits  of  living  are 


••li> 


The  Acadian  Land. 


97 


simple,  and  their  ways  primitive,  I  saw  few  eccen- 
tricities. Tljo  peculiarity  of  this  community  is  in  its 
freedom  from  all  the  hurry  and  worry  and  informa- 
tion of  our  modern  life.  I  have  read  that  the  gallants 
train  their  little  horses  to  pranco  and  curvet  and  rear 
and  fidget  about,  and  that  these  are  called  "  courtin' 
horses,"  and  arc  used  when  a  young  man  goes  court- 
ing, to  impress  Iiis  mistress  with  his  manly  horseman- 
ship. I  have  seen  these  horses  perform  "i  ^er  the 
saddle,  but  I  was  not  so  fortunate  as  to  see  any  court- 
ing going  on. 

In  their  given  as  well  as  their  family  names  these 
people  are  classical  and  peculiar.  I  heard,  of  men, 
the  names  L'Odias,  Peigneur,  Niolas,  Elias,  IIom6re, 
Lemaire,  and  of  women,  Emilite,  SC'goura,  Antoinette, 
Clarise,  Elia. 

Wo  were  very  hospitably  entertained  by  the  Le 
Blancs.  On  our  arrival  tiny  cups  of  black  coflFee  were 
handed  round,  and  later  a  drink  of  syrup  and  water, 
which  some  of  the  party  sipped  with  a  sickly  smile 
of  enjoyment.  IJefore  dinner  we  walked  up  to  the 
bridge  over  the  bayou  on  the  road  leading  to  Abbe- 
ville, where  there  is  a  little  cluster  of  houses,  a  small 
country  store,  and  a  closed  drug-shop — the  owner  of 
which  had  put  up  his  shutters  and  gone  to  a  more 
unhealthy  region.  Here  is  a  fine  grove  of  oaks,  and 
from  the  bridge  we  had  in  view  a  grand  sweep  of 
prairie,  with  trees,  single  and  in  masses,  which  made 
with  the  winding  silvery  Ktreara  a  very  pleasing  pict- 
ure. We  sat  down  to  a  dinner — the  women  waiting 
on  the  table — of  gombo  file,  fried  oysters,  eggs,  sweet- 
potatoes  (the  delicious  saccharine,  sticky  sort),  with 
syrup  out  of  a  bottle  served  in  little  saucers,  and  af- 
7 


98 


South  and  West 


torwards  black  coffee.  We  were  sincerely  welcome 
to  whatever  the  house  contained,  and  when  we  de- 
parted the  whole  family,  and  indeed  all  the  neighbor- 
hood, accompanied  us  to  our  boats,  and  we  went  away 
down  the  stream  with  a  chorus  of  adieus  and  good 
wishes,. 

We  were  watching  for  a  hail  from  the  Thibodeaux. 
The  doors  and  shutters  were  closed,  and  the  mansion 
seemed  blank  and  forgetful.  But  as  we  came  oppo- 
site the  landing,  there  stood  Andonia,  faithful,  waving 
her  handkerchief.     Ah  me! 

We  went  home  gayly  and  more  swiftly,  current 
and  tide  with  us,  though  a  little  pensive,  perhaps,  with 
too  much  pleasure  and  the  sunset  effects  on  the  wide 
marshes  through  which  we  voyaged.  Cattle  wander 
at  will  over  these  marshes,  and  are  often  stalled  and 
lost.  We  saw  some  pitiful  sights.  The  cattle  vent- 
uring too  near  the  boggy  edge  to  drink  become  in- 
extricably involved.  We  passed  an  ox  sunken  to 
his  back,  and  dead ;  a  cow  frantically  struggling  in 
the  mire,  almost  exhausted,  and  a  cow  and  calf,  the 
mother  dead,  the  calf  moaning  beside  her.  On  a  cat- 
tle lookout  near  by  sat  three  black  buzzards  survey- 
ing the  prospect  with  hungry  eyes. 

When  we  landed  and  climbed  the  hill,  and  from 
the  rose -embowered  veranda  looked  back  over  the 
strange  land  we  had  sailed  through,  away  to  Bayou 
Tigre,  where  the  red  sun  Avas  setting,  we  felt  that  we 
had  been  in  a  country  that  is  not  of  this  world. 


m  - 1 


VI. 
THE   SOUTH  REVISITED. 


IN  1887. 

In  speaking  again  of  the  South  in  IIarper*s 
Monthly,  after  an  interval  of  about  two  yejirs,  and 
as  before  at  the  request  of  the  editor,  I  said,  I  shrink 
a  good  deal  from  the  appearance  of  forwardness 
which  a  second  paper  may  seem  to  give  to  observa- 
tions which  have  the  single  purpose  of  contributing 
my  mite  towards  making  the  present  spirit  of  the 
Southern  people,  their  progress  in  industries  and  in 
education,  their  aspirations,  better  known.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  no  desire  to  escape  the  imputation 
of  a  warm  interest  in  the  South,  and  of  a  belief  that 
its  development  and  prosperity  are  essential  to  the 
greatness  and  glory  of  the  nation.  Indeed,  no  one 
can  go  through  the  South,  with  his  eyes  open,  without 
having  his  patriotic  fervor  quickened  and  broadened, 
and  without  increased  pride  in  the  republic. 

We  are  one  people.  Different  traditions,  different 
education  or  the  lack  of  it,  the  demoralizing  curse  of 
slavery,  different  prejudices,  made  us  look  at  life  from 
irreconcilable  points  of  view;  but  the  prominent  com- 
mon feature,  after  all,  is  our  Americanism.  In  any 
assembly  of  gentlemen  from  the  two  sections  the  re- 
semblances are  greater  than  the  differences.  A  score 
of  times  I  have  heard  it  said,  "We  look  alike,  talk 


i} 


jt 


100 


South  and  West 


'■t.':\' 


f  15 


h;  t  ; 


m 


I 


alike,  feel  alike ;  how  strange  it  is  we  should  have 
fought!"  Personal  contact  always  tends  to  remove 
prejudices,  and  to  bring  into  prominence  the  national 
feeling,  the  race  feeling,  the  human  nature  common 
to  all  of  us. 

I  wish  to  give  as  succinctly  as  I  can  the  general 
impressions  of  a  recent  six  weeks'  tour,  made  by  a 
company  of  artists  and  writers,  which  became  known 
as  the  "Harper  party,"  through  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  South,  including  the  cities  of  Lynchburg, 
Richmond,  Danville,  Atlanta,  Augusta  (with  a  brief 
call  at  Charleston  and  Columbia,  for  it  was  not  in- 
tended to  take  in  the  eastern  seaboard  on  this  trip), 
Knoxville,  Chattanooga,  South  Pittsburg,  Nashville, 
15irminghara,  Montgomery,  Pensacola,  Mobile,  New 
Orleans,  Baton  Rouge,  Vicksburg,  Memphis,  Louis- 
ville. Points  of  great  interest  were  necessarily  omit- 
ted in  a  tour  which  could  only  include  representa- 
tives of  the  industrial  and  educational  development 
of  the  New  South.  Naturally  we  M'cre  thrown  more 
with  business  men  and  with  educators  than  with  oth- 
ers ;  that  is,  with  those  who  are  actually  making  the 
New  South ;  but  we  saw  something  of  social  life, 
something  of  the  homes  and  mode  of  living  of  every 
class,  and  we  had  abundant  opportunities  of  conversa- 
tion with  whites  and  blacks  of  every  social  grade  and 
political  affinity.  The  Southern  people  were  anxious 
to  show  us  what  they  Avere  doing,  and  they  expressed 
their  sentiments  with  entire  frankness ;  if  we  were 
misled,  it  is  our  own  fault.  It  must  be  noted,  how- 
ever, in  estimating  the  value  of  our  observations,  that 
they  were  mainly  made  in  cities  and  large  villages, 
and  little  in  the  country  districts. 


1^. 


wmmmmi^^t 


The  Smith  Eevisited. 


101 


Inquiries  in  the  South  as  to  the  feeling  of  the 
North  show  that  there  is  still  left  some  misapprehen- 
sion of  the  spirit  in  which  the  North  sent  out  its 
armies,  though  it  is  beginning  to  be  widely  under- 
stood that  the  North  was  not  animated  by  hatred  of 
the  South,  but  by  intense  love  of  the  Union.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  no  doubt  there  still  lingers  in  the 
North  a  little  misapprehension  of  the  present  feeling 
of  the  Southern  people  about  the  Union.  It  arises 
from  a  confusion  of  two  facts  which  it  is  best  to  speak 
of  plainly.  Everybody  knows  that  the  South  is 
heartily  glad  that  slavery  is  gone,  and  that  a  new  era 
of  freedom  has  set  in.  Everybody  who  knows  the 
South  at  all  is  aware  that  any  idea  of  any  renewal  of 
the  strife,  now  or  at  any  time,  is  nowhere  entertained, 
even  as  a  speculation,  and  that  to  the  women  espe- 
cially, who  are  said  to  be  first  in  war,  last  in  peace, 
and  first  in  the  hearts  of  their  countrymen,  the  idea 
of  war  is  a  subject  of  utter  loathing.  The  two  facts 
to  which  I  refer  are  the  loyalty  of  the  Southern  whites 
to  the  Union,  and  their  determination  to  rule  in  do- 
mestic affairs.  Naturally  there  are  here  and  there 
soreness  and  some  bitterness  over  personal  loss  and 
ruin,  life-long  grief,  maybe,  over  lost  illusions — the 
observer  who  remembers  what  human  nature  is  won- 
ders that  so  little  of  this  is  left — but  the  great  fact  is 
that  the  South  is  politically  loyal  to  the  Union  of  the 
States,  that  the  sentiment  for  its  symbol  is  growing 
into  a  deep  reality  which  would  flame  out  in  passion 
under  any  foreign  insult,  and  that  nationality,  pride 
in  the  republic,  is  everywhere  strong  and  prominent. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  this,  but  it  needs  to  be 
emphasized  when  the  other  fact  is  dwelt  on,  namely, 


102 


South  and  West. 


UJ 


the  denial  of  free  suffrage  to  the  colored  man.  These 
two  things  are  confused,  and  this  confusion  is  the 
source  of  much  political  misunderstanding.  Often 
when  a  Southern  election  "outrage"  is  telegraphed, 
when  intimidation  or  fraud  is  revealed,  it  is  said  in 
print,  "So  that  is  Southern  loyalty!"  In  short,  the 
political  treatment  of  the  negro  is  taken  to  be  a  sign 
of  surviving  war  feeling,  if  not  of  a  renewed  purpose 
of  rebellion.  In  this  year  of  grace  1887  the  two 
things  have  no  relation  to  each  other.  It  would  be 
as  true  to  say  that  election  frauds  and  violence  to  in- 
dividuals and  on  the  ballot-box  in  Cincinnati  are  signs 
of  hatred  of  the  Union  and  of  Union  men,  as  that  a 
suppressed  negro  vote  at  the  South,  by  adroit  man- 
agement or  otherwise,  is  indication  of  remaining  hos- 
tility to  the  Union.  In  the  South  it  is  sometimes  due 
to  the  same  depraved  party  spirit  that  causes  frauds 
in  the  North — the  determination  of  a  party  to  get  or 
keep  the  upperhand  at  all  hazards ;  but  it  is,  in  its 
origin  and  generally,  simply  the  result  of  the  resolu- 
tion of  the  majority  of  the  brains  and  property  of 
the  South  to  govern  the  cities  and  the  States,  and  in 
the  Southern  mind  this  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
entire  allegiance  to  the  Government.  I  could  name 
men  who  were  abettors  of  what  is  called  the  "  shot- 
gun policy"  whose  national  patriotism  is  beyond 
question,  and  who  are  warm  promoters  of  negro  edu- 
cation and  the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  the 
colored  people. 

AVe  might  as  well  go  to  the  bottom  of  this  state  of 
things,  and  look  it  squarely  in  the  face.  Under  re- 
construction, sometimes  owing  to  a  tardy  acceptance 
of  the  new  conditions  by  the  ruling  class,  the  State 


The  South  Revisited. 


103 


governments  and  the  municipalities  fell  under  the 
control  of  ignorant  colored  people,  guided  by  un- 
scrupulous white  adventurers.  States  and  cities  were 
prostrate  under  the  heel  of  ignorance  and  fraud, 
crushed  with  taxes,  and  no  improvements  to  show  for 
them.  It  was  ruin  on  the  way  to  universal  bankruptcy. 
The  regaining  of  power  by  the  intelligent  and  the 
property  owners  was  a  question  of  civilization.  Tho 
situation  was  intolerable.  There  is  no  Northern  com- 
munity that  would  have  submitted  to  it ;  if  it  could 
not  have  been  changed  by  legal  process,  it  would  have 
been  upset  by  revolution,  as  it  was  at  the  South.  Rec- 
ognizing as  we  must  the  existence  of  race  prejudice 
and  pride,  it  was  nevertheless  a  struggle  for  existence. 
The  methods  resorted  to  were  often  violent,  and  be- 
ing sweeping,  carried  injustice.  To  be  a  Republican, 
in  the  eyes  of  those  smarting  under  carpet-bag  gov- 
ernment and  the  rule  of  the  ignorant  lately  enfran- 
chised, was  to  be  identified  with  the  detested  carpet- 
bag government  and  with  negro  rule.  The  Southern 
Unionist  and  the  Northern  emigrant,  who  justly  re- 
garded the  name  Republican  as  the  proudest  they 
could  bear,  Identified  as  it  Avas  with  the  preservation 
of  the  Union  and  the  national  credit,  could  not  show 
their  Republican  principles  at  the  polls  without  per- 
sonal danger  in  the  country  and  social  ostracism  in 
the  cities.  Social  ostracism  on  account  of  politics 
even  outran  social  ostracism  on  account  of  participa- 
tion in  the  education  of  the  negroes.  The  very  men 
who  would  say, "  I  respect  a  man  who  fought  for  the 
Union  more  than  a  Northern  Copperhead,  and  if  I 
had  lived  North,  no  doubt  I  should  have  gone  with 
my  section,"  would  at  the  same  time  say,  or  think, 


sz 


104 


South  and  West. 


A^A 


"But  you  cannot  be  a  Republican  down  here  now, 
for  to  be  that  is  to  identify  yourself  with  the  party 
here  that  is  hostile  to  everything  in  life  that  is  dear 
to  us."  This  feeling  was  intensified  by  the  memories 
of  the  war,  but  it  was  in  a  measure  distinct  from  the 
war  feeling,  and  it  lived  on  when  the  latter  grew 
weak,  and  it  still  survives  in  communities  perfectly 
loyal  to  the  Union,  glad  that  slavery  is  ended,  and 
sincerely  desirous  of  the  establishment  and  improve- 
ment of  public  education  for  colored  and  white  alike. 
Any  tampering  with  the  freedom  of  the  ballot-box 
in  a  republic,  no  matter  what  the  provocation,  is  dan- 
gerous ;  the  methods  used  to  regain  white  ascendancy 
were  speedily  adopted  for  purely  party  purposes  and 
factional  purposes;  the  chicanery,  even  th^  violence, 
employed  to  render  powerless  the  negro  and  "  carpet- 
bag "  vote  were  freely  used  by  partisans  in  local  elec- 
tions against  each  other,  and  in  time  became  means  of 
preserving  party  and  ring  ascendancy.  Thoughtful 
men  South  as  well  as  North  recognize  the  vital  dan- 
ger to  popular  government  if  voting  and  the  ballot- 
box  are  not  sacredly  protected.  In  a  recent  election 
in  Texas,  in  a  district  where,  I  am  told,  the  majority 
of  the  inhabitants  are  white,  and  the  majority  of  the 
whites  are  Republicans,  and  the  majority  of  the  col- 
ored voters  voted  the  Republican  ticket,  and  greatly 
the  larger  proportion  of  the  wealth  and  business  of 
the  district  are  in  Republican  hands,  there  was  an 
election  row ;  ballot-boxes  were  destroyed  in  several 
precincts,  persons  killed  on  both  sides,  and  leading 
Republicans  driven  out  of  the  State.  This  is  barba- 
rism. If  the  case  is  substantiated  as  stated,  that  in  the 
district  it  was  not  a  question  of  race  ascendancy,  but 


TJie  South  lievisited. 


105 


of  party  asccmlancy,  no  fair-minded  man  in  the  South 
can  do  otherwise  than  condemn  it,  for  under  such  con- 
ditions not  only  is  a  republican  form  of  government 
impossible,  but  development  and  prosperity  are  im- 
possible. 

For  this  reason,  and  because  separation  of  voters 
on  class  lines  is  always  a  peril,  it  is  my  decided  im- 
pression that  throughout  the  South,  though  not  by 
everybody,  a  breaking  up  of  the  solidarity  of  the 
South  would  be  welcome ;  that  is  to  say,  a  breaking 
up  of  both  the  negro  and  the  white  vote,  and  the  re- 
forming upon  lines  of  national  and  economic  policy, 
as  in  the  old  days  of  Whig  and  Democrat,  and  liberty 
of  free  action  in  all  local  affairs,  without  regard  to 
color  or  previous  party  relations.  There  are  politi- 
cians "who  would  preserve  a  solid  South,  or  as  a  coun- 
terpart a  solid  North,  for  party  purposes.  But  the 
sense  of  the  country,  the  perception  of  business  men 
North  and  South,  is  that  this  condition  of  politics  in- 
terferes with  the  free  play  of  industrial  development, 
with  emigration,  investment  of  capital,  and  with  that 
untrammelled  agitation  and  movement  in  society 
which  are  the  life  of  prosperous  States. 

Let  us  come  a  little  closer  to  the  subject,  dealing  al- 
together with  facts,  and  not  with  opinions.  The  Re- 
publicans of  the  North  protest  against  the  injustice 
of  an  increased  power  in  the  Lower  House  and  in  the 
Electoral  College  based  upon  a  vote  which  is  not  rep- 
resented. It  is  a  valid  protest  in  law ;  there  is  no  an- 
swer to  it.  What  is  the  reply  to  it  ?  The  substance 
of  hundreds  of  replies  to  it  is  that "  we  dare  not  let 
go  so  long  as  the  negroes  all  vote  together,  regardless 
of  local  considerations  or  any  economic  problems  what- 


106 


South  and  West 


ever ;  we  are  in  danger  of  a  return  to  a  rule  of  igno- 
rance that  was  intolerable,  and  as  long  as  you  wave 
the  bloody  shirt  at  the  North,  which  means  to  us  a 
return  to  that  rule,  the  South  will  be  solid."  The  re- 
mark made  by  one  man  of  political  prominence  was 
perhaps  typical:  "The  waving  of  the  bloody  shirt 
suits  me  exactly  as  a  political  game  ;  we  should  have 
hard  work  to  keep  our  State  Democratic  if  you  did 
not  wave  it."  So  the  case  stands.  The  Republican 
party  will  always  insist  on  freedom,  not  only  of  politi- 
cal opinion,  but  of  action,  in  every  part  of  the  Union ; 
and  the  South  will  keep  "  solid  "  so  long  as  it  fears,  or 
so  long  as  politicians  can  persuade  it  to  fear,  the  re- 
turn of  the  late  disastrous  domination.  And  recog- 
nizing this  fact,  and  speaking  in  the  interest  of  no 
party,  but  only  in  that  of  better  understanding  and  of 
the  prosperity  of  the  whole  country,  I  cannot  doubt 
that  the  way  out  of  most  of  our  complications  is  in 
letting  the  past  drop  absolutely,  and  addressing  our- 
selves with  sympathy  and  good-will  all  around  to  the 
great  economical  problems  and  national  issues.  And 
I  believe  that  in  this  way  also  lies  the  speediest  and 
most  permanent  good  to  the  colored  as  well  as  the 
white  population  of  the  South. 

There  has  been  a  great  change  in  the  aspect  of  the 
South  and  in  its  sentiment  within  two  years ;  or  per- 
haps it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  that  the  change 
maturing  for  fifteen  years  is  more  apparent  in  a  period 
of  comparative  rest  from  race  or  sectional  agitation. 
The  educational  development  is  not  more  marvellous 
than  the  industrial,  and  both  are  unparalleled  in  his- 
tory.    Let  us  begin  by  an  illustration. 

I  stood  one  day  before  an  assembly  of  four  hundred 


The  South  Revisited. 


107 


pupils  of  a  colored  college — called  a  college,  but  with 
a  necessary  preparatory  department — children  and 
well-grown  young  women  and  men.  The  buildings 
are  fine,  spacious,  not  inferior  to  the  best  modern  edu- 
catio'ial  buildings  cither  in  architectural  appearance 
or  in  interior  furnishing,  with  scientific  apparatus,  a 
library,  the  appliances  approved  by  recent  experience 
in  teaching,  with  admirable  methods  and  discipline, 
and  an  accomplished  corps  of  instructors.  The  schol- 
ars were  neat,  orderly,  intelligent  in  appearance.  As 
I  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  looking  at  their  bright 
expectant  faces  the  profound  significance  of  the  spec- 
tacle and  the  situation  came  over  me,  and  I  said  :  ''  I 
wonder  if  you  know  what  you  are  doing,  if  you  real- 
ize what  this  means.  Here  you  are  in  a  school  the 
equal  of  any  of  its  grade  in  the  land,  with  better 
methods  of  instruction  than  prevailed  anywhere  when 
I  was  a  boy,  with  the  gates  of  all  knowledge  opened 
as  freely  to  you  as  to  any  youth  in  the  land — here,  in 
this  State,  where  only  about  twenty  years  ago  it  was 
a  misdemeanor,  punishable  with  fine  and  imprison- 
ment, to  teach  a  colored  person  to  read  and  write. 
And  I  am  brought  here  to  see  this  fine  school,  as  one 
of  the  best  things  he  can  show  me  in  the  city,  by  a 
Confederate  colonel.  Not  in  all  history  is  there  any 
instance  of  a  change  like  this  in  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury :  no,  not  in  one  nor  in  two  hundred  years.  It 
seems  incredible." 

This  is  one  of  the  schools  instituted  and  sustained 
by  Northern  friends  of  the  South;  but  while  it  exhib- 
its the  capacity  of  the  colored  people  for  education,  it 
is  not  so  significant  in  the  view  we  are  now  taking  of 
the  New  South  as  the  public  schools.    Indeed,  next 


1 


1 1 


i 


r> ' 


\ 


108 


South  and  West. 


4 


to  the  amazing  industrial  change  in  the  South,  noth- 
ing is  so  striking  as  the  interest  and  progress  in  the 
matter  of  public  schools.  In  all  the  cities  we  visited 
the  people  were  enthusiastic  about  their  common 
schools.  It  was  a  common  remark,  "  I  suppose  we 
have  one  of  the  best  school  systems  in  the  country." 
There  is  a  wholesome  rivalry  to  have  the  best.  "Wo 
found  everywhere  the  graded  system  and  the  newest 
methods  of  teaching  in  vogue.  In  many  of  the  pri- 
mary rooms  in  both  white  and  colored  schools,  when 
I  asked  if  these  little  children  knew  the  alphabet  when 
they  came  to  school,  the  reply  was,  "  Not  generally. 
We  prefer  they  should  not;  we  use  the  new  method 
of  teaching  words."  In  many  schools  the  youngest 
pupils  were  taught  to  read  music  by  sight,  and  to  un- 
derstand its  notation  by  exercises  on  the  blackboard. 
In  the  higher  classes  generally,  the  instruction  in  arith- 
metic, in  reading,  in  geography,  in  history,  and  in  lit- 
erature was  wholly  in  the  modern  method.  In  some 
of  the  geography  classes  and  in  the  language  classes  I 
was  reminded  of  the  drill  in  the  German  schools.  In 
all  the  cities,  as  far  as  I  could  learn,  the  public  money 
was  equally  distributed  to  the  colored  and  to  the 
white  schools,  and  the  number  of  schools  bore  a  just 
proportion  to  the  number  of  the  two  races.  When 
the  town  was  equally  divided  in  population,  the  num- 
ber of  pupils  in  the  colored  schools  was  about  the 
same  as  the  number  in  the  white  schools.  There  was 
this  exception :  though  provision  was  made  for  a  high- 
school  to  terminate  the  graded  for  both  colors,  the 
number  in  the  colored  high-school  department  was 
usually  very  small;  and  the  reason  given  by  colored 
and  white  teachers  was  that  the  colored  children  had 


IVie  South  Jievisited. 


109 


not  yet  worked  up  to  it.  Tho  colored  people  prefer 
teachers  of  their  own  race,  and  they  are  quite  gener- 
ally employed;  but  many  of  the  colored  schools  have 
white  teachers,  and  generally,  I  think,  with  better  re- 
sults, although  I  saw  many  thoroughly  good  colored 
teachers,  and  one  or  two  colored  classes  under  them 
that  compared  favorably  with  any  white  classes  of  the 
same  grade. 

The  great  fact,  however,  is  that  the  common-school 
system  has  become  a  part  of  Southern  life,  is  every- 
where accepted  as  a  necessity,  and  usually  money  is 
freely  voted  to  sustain  it.  But  practically,  as  an  effi- 
cient factor  in  civilization,  the  system  is  yet  undevel- 
oped in  the  country  districts.  I  can  only  speak  from 
personal  observation  of  the  cities,  but  tiie  universal 
testimony  was  that  the  common  schools  in  the  coun- 
try for  both  whites  and  blacks  are  poor.  Three 
months'  schooling  in  the  year  is  about  the  rule,  and 
that  of  a  slack  and  inferior  sort,  under  incompetent 
teachers.  In  some  places  the  colored  people  complain 
that  ignorant  teachers  are  put  over  them,  who  are 
chosen  simply  on  political  considerations.  More  than 
one  respectable  colored  man  told  me  that  he  would 
not  send  his  children  to  such  schools,  but  combined 
with  a  few  others  to  get  them  private  instruction. 
The  colored  people  are  more  dependent  on  public 
schools  than  the  whites,  for  while  there  are  vast  mass- 
es of  colored  people  in  city  and  country  who  have  nei- 
ther the  money  nor  the  disposition  to  sustain  schools, 
in  all  the  large  places  the  whites  are  able  to  have  ex- 
cellent private  schools,  and  do  have  them.  Scarcely 
anywhere  can  the  colored  people  as  yet  have  a  private 
school  without  white  aid  from  somewhere.     At  the 


)! 


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if 


'1  .; 


no 


South  aiid  West. 


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it 


\ 


present  rate  of  progress,  and  even  of  the  increase  of 
tax-paying  ability,  it  must  bo  a  long  time  before  the 
ignorant  masses,  white  and  black,  in  the  country  dis- 
tricts, scattered  over  a  wide  area,  can  have  public 
Hchools  at  all  efficient.  The  necessity  is  great.  The 
danger  to  the  State  of  ignorance  is  more  and  more  ap- 
prehended; and  it  is  upon  this  that  many  of  the  best 
men  of  the  South  base  their  urgent  appeal  for  tem- 
porary aid  from  the  Federal  Government  for  public 
schools.  It  is  seen  that  a  State  cannot  soundly  pros- 
per imlcss  its  laborers  are  to  some  degree  intelligent. 
This  opinion  is  shown  in  little  things.  One  of  the 
great  planters  of  the  Yazoo  Delta  told  me  that  he 
used  to  have  no  end  of  trouble  in  settling  with  his 
hands.  But  now  that  numbers  of  them  can  read  and 
cipher,  and  explain  the  accounts  to  the  others,  he  never 
has  the  least  trouble. 

One  cannot  speak  too  highly  of  the  private  schools 
in  the  South,  especially  of  those  for  young  women.  I 
do  not  know  what  they  were  before  the  war,  probably 
mainly  devoted  to  "  accomplishments,"  as  most  of 
girls'  schools  in  the  North  were.  Now  most  of  them 
are  wider  in  range,  thorough  in  discipline,  excellent 
in  all  the  modern  methods.  Some  of  them,  under  ac- 
complished women,  are  entirely  in  line  with  the  best 
in  the  country.  Before  leaving  this  general  subject 
of  education,  it  is  necessary  to  say  that  the  advisabili- 
ty of  industrial  training,  as  supplementary  to  book- 
learning,  is  growing  in  favor,  and  that  in  some  colored 
schools  it  is  tried  with  good  results. 

When  we  come  to  the  New  Industrial  South  the 
change  is  marvellous,  and  so  vast  and  various  that  I 
scarcely  know  where  to  begin  in  a  short  paper  that 


>   » 


I 


The  South  Revisited. 


Ill 


cannot  go  much  into  details.  Instoad  of  a  South  de- 
voted to  agriculture  and  politics,  we  find  a  South  wide 
awake  to  busincsR,  excited  and  even  astonished  at  the 
development  of  its  own  immense  resources  in  metals, 
marbles,  coal,  timber,  fertilizers,  eagerly  laying  lines 
of  communication,  rapidly  opening  mines,  building 
furnaces,  foundcries,  and  all  sorts  of  Hho]>s  for  util- 
izing the  native  riches.  It  is  like  the  discovery  of  a 
new  world.  When  the  Northerner  finds  great  foun- 
deries  in  Virginia  using  only  (with  slight  exceptions) 
the  products  of  Virginia  iron  and  coal  mines  ;  when 
be  finds  Alabama  and  Tennessee  making  iron  so  good 
and  so  cheap  that  it  finds  ready  market  in  Pennsylva- 
nia, and  foundcries  multiplying  near  the  great  fur- 
naces for  supplying  Northern  markets ;  when  ho  finds 
cotton -mills  running  to  full  capacity  on  grades  of 
cheap  cottons  universally  in  demand  throughout  the 
South  and  South-west;  when  he  finds  small  industries, 
such  as  paper-box  factories  and  wooden  bucket  and 
tub  factories,  sending  all  they  can  make  into  the 
North  and  widely  over  the  West;  when  ho  sees  the 
loads  of  most  beautiful  marbles  shipped  North;  when 
ho  learns  that  some  of  the  largest  and  most  important 
engines  and  mill  machinery  were  made  in  Southern 
shops ;  when  he  finds  in  Richmond  a  "  pole  locomo- 
tive," made  to  run  on  logs  laid  end  to  end,  and  drag 
out  from  Michigan  forests  and  Southern  swamps  lum- 
ber hitherto  inaccessible;  when  he  sees  worn-out  high- 
lands in  Georgia  and  Carolina  bear  more  cotton  than 
ever  before  by  help  of  a  fertilizer  the  base  of  which  is 
the  cotton-seed  itself  (worth  more  as  a  fertilizer  than 
it  was  before  the  oil  was  extracted  from  it);  when  he 
sees  a  multitude  of  small  shops  giving  employment  to 


\\ 


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112 


South  and  West. 


ik 


?. 


f»  I  'f*! 


wm 


men,  women,  and  children  who  never  had  any  work  of 
that  sort  to  do  before ;  and  when  he  sees  Roanoke 
iron  cast  in  Richmond  into  car-irons,  and  returned  to 
a  car-factory  in  Roanoke  which  last  year  sold  three 
Imndred  cars  to  the  Now  York  and  New  England  Rail- 
road— he  begins  to  open  his  eyes.  The  South  is  man- 
ufacturing a  great  variety  of  things  needed  in  the 
house,  on  the  farm,  and  in  the  shops,  for  home  con- 
sumption, and  already  sends  to  the  North  and  West 
several  manufactured  products.  With  iron,  coal,  tim- 
ber contiguous  and  easily  obtained,  the  amount  sent 
out  is  certain  to  increase  as  the  labor  becomes  more 
fkilf ul.  The  most  striking  industrial  development  to- 
day is  in  iron,  coal,  lumber,  and  marbles ;  the  more 
encouraging  for  the  self-sustaining  life  of  the  South- 
ern people  is  the  multiplication  of  small  industries  in 
nearly  every  city  I  visited. 

When  I  have  been  asked  what  impressed  me  most 
in  this  hasty  tour,  I  have  always  said  that  the  most 
notable  thing  was  that  everybody  was  at  work.  In 
many  cities  this  was  literally  true:  every  man,  woman, 
and  child  was  actively  employed,  and  in  most  there 
were  fewer  idlers  than  in  many  Northern  towns. 
There  are,  of  course,  slow  places,  antiquated  methods, 
easy  -  going  ways,  a  -  hundred  -  years  -  behind  -  the  -  time 
makeshifts,  but  the  spirit  in  all  the  centres,  and  leav- 
ening the  whole  country,  is  work.  Perhaps  the  great- 
est revolution  of  all  in  Southern  sentiment  is  in  re- 
gard to  the  dignity  of  labor.  Labor  is  honorable, 
made  so  by  the  example  of  the  best  in  the  land. 
There  are,  no  doubt,  fossils  or  Bourbons,  sitting  in 
the  midst  of  the  ruins  of  their  estates,  martyrs  to  an 
ancient  pride;  but  usually  the  leaders  in  business  and 


The  South  Revisited. 


113 


enterprise  bear  names  well  known  in  politics  and  so- 
ciety. The  nonsense  that  it  is  beneath  the  dignity  of 
any  man  or  woman  to  work  for  a  living  is  pretty  much 
eliminated  from  the  Southern  mind.  It  still  remains 
true  that  the  Anglo-Saxon  type  is  prevalent  in  the 
South;  but  in  all  the  cities  the  business  sign-boards 
show  that  the  enterprising  Hebrew  is  increasingly 
prominent  as  merchant  and  trader,  and  he  is  becom- 
ing a  plantation  owner  as  well. 

It  cannot  be  too  strongly  impressed  upon  the  public 
mind  that  the  South,  to  use  a  comprehensible  phrase, 
"has  joined  the  procession."  Its  mind  is  turned  to 
the  development  of  its  resources,  to  business,  to  enter- 
prise, to  education,  to  economic  problems ;  it  is  march- 
ing with  the  North  in  the  same  purpose  of  wealth  by 
industry.  It  is  true  that  the  railways,  mines,  and 
furnaces  could  not  have  been  without  enormous  in- 
vestments of  Northern  capital,  but  I  was  continually 
surprised  to  find  so  many  and  important  local  indus- 
tries the  result  solely  of  home  capital,  made  and  saved 
since  the  war. 

In  this  industrial  change,  in  the  growth  of  manu- 
factures, the  Southern  people  are  necessarily  divided 
on  the  national  economic  problems.  Speaking  of  it 
purely  from  the  side  of  political  economy  and  not  of 
politics,  great  sections  of  the  South — whole  States,  in 
fact — are  becoming  more  in  favor  of  "protection" 
every  day.  All  theories  aside,  whenever  a  man  begins 
to  work  up  the  raw  material  at  hand  into  manufact- 
ured articles  for  the  market,  he  thinks  that  the  revenue 
should  be  so  adjusted  as  to  help  and  not  to  hinder  him. 

Underlying  everything  else  is  the  negro  problem. 
It  is  the  most  difficult  ever  given  to  a  people  to  solve. 
8 


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114 


South  and  West. 


ti^'H 


It  <; 


It  must,  under  our  Constitution,  be  left  to  the  States 
concerned,  and  there  is  a  general  hopefulness  that 
time  and  patience  will  solve  it  to  the  advantage  of 
both  races.  The  negro  is  generally  regarded  as  the 
best  laborer  in  the  world,  and  there  is  generally  good- 
will towards  him,  desire  that  he  shall  be  educated  and 
become  thrifty.  The  negro  has  more  confidence  now 
than  formerly  in  the  white  man,  and- he  will  go  to  him 
for  aid  and  advice  in  everything  except  politics. 
Again  and  again  colored  men  said  to  me, "  If  anybody 
tells  you  that  any  considerable  number  of  colored 
men  are  Democrats,  don't  yon  believe  him  ;  it  is  not 
so."  The  philanthropist  who  goes  South  will  find 
many  things  to  encourage  him,  but  if  he  knows  the 
colored  people  thoroughly,  he  will  lose  many  illusions. 
But  to  speak  of  things  hopeful,  the  progress  in  educa- 
tion, in  industry,  in  ability  to  earn  money,  is  extraor- 
dinary— much  greater  than  ought  to  have  been  ex- 
pected in  twenty  years  even  by  their  most  sanguine 
friends,  and  it  is  greater  now  than  at  any  other  period. 
They  are  generally  well  paid,  according  to  the  class 
of  work  they  do.  Usually  I  found  the  same  wages 
for  the  same  class  of  work  as  whites  received.  I  can- 
not say  how  this  is  in  remote  country  districts.  The 
treatment  of  laborers  depends,  I  have  no  doubt,  as 
elsewhere,  upon  the  nature  of  the  employer.  In  some 
districts  I  heard  that  the  negroes  never  got  out  of 
debt,  never  could  lay  up  anything,  and  were  in  a  very 
bad  condition.  But  on  some  plantations  certainly, 
and  generally  in  the  cities,  there  is  an  improvement 
in  thrift  shown  in  the  ownership  of  bits  of  land 
and  bouses,  and  in  the  possession  of  neat  and  pret- 
ty homes.    As  to  morals,  the  gain  is  slower,  but  it  is 


"■^ 


The  South  Jievisited. 


115 


discernible,  and  exhibited  in  a  growing  public  opinion 
against  immorality  and  lax  family  relations.  He  is 
no  friend  to  the  colored  people  who  blinks  this  sub- 
ject, and  does  not  plainly  say  to  them  that  their  posi- 
tion as  citizens  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  civil  rights 
depends  quite  as  much  upon  their  personal  virtue  and 
their  acquiring  habits  of  thrift  as  it  does  upon  school 
privileges. 

I  had  many  interesting  talks  with  representative 
colored  men  in  different  sections.  While  it  is  un- 
doubtedly true  that  more  are  indifferent  to  politics 
than  formerly,  owing  to  causes  already  named  and  to 
the  unfulfilled  promises  of  wheedling  politicians,  it 
would  be  untrue  to  say  that  there  is  not  great  sore- 
ness over  the  present  situation.  At  Nashville  I  had 
an  interview  with  eight  or  ten  of  the  best  colored 
citizens,  men  of  all  shades  of  color.  One  of  them 
was  a  trusted  clerk  in  the  post-office ;  another  was  a 
mail  agent,  who  had  saved  money,  and  made  more  by 
an  investment  in  Birmingham  ;  another  was  a  lawyer 
of  good  practice  in  the  courts,  a  man  of  decided  re- 
finement and  cultivation  ;  another  was  at  the  head  of 
one  of  the  leading  transportation  lines  in  the  city,  and 
another  had  the  largest  provision  establishment  in 
town,  and  both  were  men  of  considerable  property ; 
and  another,  a  slave  when  the  war  ended,  was  a  large 
furniture  dealer,  and  reputed  worth  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars.  They  were  all  solid,  sensible  business 
men,  and  all  respected  as  citizens.  They  talked  most 
intelligently  of  politics,  and  freely  about  social  condi- 
tions. In  regard  to  voting  in  Tennessee  there  was 
little  to  complain  of  ;  but  in  regard  to  Mississippi,  as 
an  illustration,  it  was  an  outrage  that  the  dominant 


§1 


116 


South  and  West. 


i* 


party  had  increased  power  in  Congress  and  in  the 
election  of  President,  while  the  colored  Repuhlican 
vote  did  not  count.  What  could  they  do?  Some 
said  that  probably  nothing  could  be  done ;  time  must 
be  left  to  cure  the  wrong.  Others  wanted  the  Fed- 
eral Government  to  interfere,  at  least  to  the  extent  of 
making  a  test  case  on  some  member  of  Congress  that 
his  election  was  illegal.  They  did  not  think  that 
need  excite  anew  any  race  prejudice.  As  to  exciting 
race  and  sectional  agitation,  we  discussed  this  ques- 
tion :  whether  the  present  marvellous  improvement 
of  the  colored  people,  with  general  good-will,  or  at 
least  a  truce  everywhere,  would  not  be  hindered  by 
anything  like  a  race  or  class  agitation  ;  that  is  to  say, 
whether  under  the  present  conditions  of  education 
and  thrift  the  colored  people  (whatever  injustice  they 
felt)  were  not  going  on  faster  towards  the  realization 
of  all  they  wanted  than  would  be  possible  under  any 
circumstances  of  adverse  agitation.  As  a  matter  of 
policy  most  of  them  assented  to  this.  I  put  this  ques- 
tion :  "  In  the  first  reconstruction  days,  how  many 
colored  men  were  there  in  the  State  of  Mississippi 
fitted  either  by  knowledge  of  letters,  law,  political 
economy,  history,  or  politics  to  make  laws  for  the 
State?"  Very  few.  Well,  then,  it  was  unfortunate 
that  they  should  have  attempted  it.  There  are  more 
to-day,  and  with  education  and  the  accumulation  of 
property  the  number  will  constantly  increase.  In  a 
republic,  power  usually  goes  with  intelligence  and 
property. 

Finally  I  asked  this  intelligent  company,  every 
man  of  which  stood  upon  his  own  ability  in  perfect 
self-respect,  "  What  do  you  want  here  in  the  way  of 


The  South  lieviaited. 


117 


civil  rights  Ihat  you  have  not  ?"  The  reply  from  one 
was  that  he  got  the  respect  of  the  whites  just  as  he 
was  able  to  command  it  by  his  ability  and  by  making 
money,  and,  with  a  touch  of  a  sense  of  injustice,  he 
said  he  had  ceased  to  expect  that  the  colored  race 
would  get  it  in  any  other  way.  Another  reply  was — 
and  this  was  evidently  the  deep  feeling  of  all :  "  We 
want  to  be  treated  like  men,  like  anybody  else,  regard- 
less of  color.  We  don't  mean  by  this  social  equality 
at  all;  that  is  a  matter  that  regulates  itself  among 
whites  and  colored  people  everywhere.  We  want  the 
public  conveyances  open  to  us  according  to  the  fare  we 
pay ;  we  want  privilege  to  go  to  hotels  and  to  theatres, 
operas  and  places  of  amusement.  We  wish  you  could 
see  our  families  and  the  way  we  live  ;  you  would  then 
understand  that  we  cannot  go  to  the  places  assigned 
us  in  concerts  and  theatres  without  loss  of  self-re- 
spect." I  might  have  said,  but  I  did  not,  that  the 
question  raised  by  this  last  observation  is  not  a  local 
one,  but  as  wide  as  the  world. 

If  I  tried  to  put  in  a  single  sentence  the  most  wide- 
spread and  active  sentiment  in  the  South  to-day,  it 
would  be  this  :  The  past  is  put  behind  us  ;  we  are 
one  with  the  North  in  business  and  national  ambi- 
tion :  we  want  a  sympathetic  recognition  of  this  fact. 


I         !i 


VII. 


N''^ 


■■4'i 


kr^i 


.m 


A  FAR  AND  FAIR  COUNTRY. 

Lewis  and  Clarke,  sent  out  by  Mr.  Jefferson  in  1804 
to  discover  the  North-west  by  the  route  of  the  Mis- 
souri River,  left  the  town  of  St.  Charles  early  in  the 
spring,  sailed  and  poled  and  dragged  their  boats  up 
the  swift,  turbulent,  and  treacherous  stream  all  sum- 
mer, wintered  with  the  Mandan  Indians,  and  reached 
the  Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri  in  about  a  year  and  a 
quarter  from  the  beginning  of  their  voyage.  Now, 
when  we  wish  to  rediscover  this  interesting  country, 
which  is  still  virgin  land,  we  lay  down  a  railway-track 
in  the  spring  and  summer,  and  go  over  there  in  the 
autumn  in  a  palace-car — a  much  more  expeditious  and 
comfortable  mode  of  exploration. 

In  beginning  a  series  of  observations  and  comments 
upon  Western  life  it  is  proper  to  say  that  the  reader 
is  not  to  expect  exhaustive  statistical  statements  of 
growth  or  development,  nor  descriptions,  except  such 
as  will  illustrate  the  point  of  view  taken  of  the  mak- 
ing of  the  Great  West.  Materialism  is  the  most  ob- 
trusive feature  of  a  cursory  observation,  but  it  docs 
not  interest  one  so  much  as  the  forces  that  underlie 
';t,  the  enterprise  and  the  joyousness  of  conquest  and 
r.cMevement  that  it  stands  for,  or  the  finer  processes 
Involved  in  the  marvellous  building  up  of  new  societies. 
^^■"»t  is  the  spirit,  what  is  the  civilization  of  the 
S\  est  ?    I  have  not  the  presumption  to  expect  to  an- 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


119 


swer  these  large  questions  to  any  one's  satisfaction — 
least  of  all  to  my  own — but  if  I  may  be  permitted  to 
talk  about  them  familiarly,  in  the  manner  that  one 
speaks  to  his  friends  of  what  interested  him  most  in  a 
journey,  and  with  flexibility  in  passing  from  one  topic 
to  another,  I  shall  hope  to  contribute  something  to  a 
better  understanding  between  the  territories  of  a  vast 
empire.  How  vast  this  republic  is,  no  one  can  at  all 
appreciate  who  does  not  actually  travel  over  its  wide 
areas.  To  many  of  us  the  West  is  still  the  West  of 
the  geographies  of  thirty  years  ago ;  it  is  the  simple 
truth  to  say  that  comparatively  few  Eastern  people 
have  any  adequate  conception  of  what  lies  west  of 
Chicago  and  St.  Louis :  perhaps  a  hazy  geographical 
notion  of  it,  but  not  the  faintest  idea  of  its  civilization 
and  society.  Now,  a  good  understanding  of  each  oth- 
er between  the  great  sections  of  the  republic  is  politi- 
cally of  the  first  importance.  We  shall  hang  together 
as  a  nation  ;  blood,  relationship,  steel  rails,  navigable 
waters,  trade,  absence  of  natural  boundaries,  settle 
that.  We  shall  pull  and  push  and  grumble,  we  shall 
vituperate  each  other,  parties  will  continue  to  make 
capital  out  of  sectional  prejudice,  and  wantonly  in- 
flame it  (what  a  pitiful  sort  of  "  politics  "  that  is  !), 
but  we  shall  stick  together  like  wax.  Still,  anything 
like  smooth  working  of  our  political  machine  depends 
upon  good  understanding  between  sections.  And  the 
remark  applies  to  East  and  West  as  well  as  to  North 
and  South.  It  is  a  common  remark  at  the  West  that 
"  Eastern  people  know  nothing  about  us  ;  they  think 
us  half  civilized  ;"  and  there  is  mingled  with  slight 
irritability  at  this  ignorance  a  waxing  feeling  of  supe- 
riority over  the  East  in  force  and  power.     One  would 


120 


South  and  West. 


m 


not  say  that  repose  as  yet  goes  along  with  this  sense 
of  great  capacity  and  great  achievement ;  indeed,  it 
is  inevitable  that  in  a  condition  of  development  and 
of  quick  growth  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the 
world  there  should  be  abundant  self-assertion  and 
even  monumental  boastfulness. 

When  the  Western  man  goes  East  he  carries  the 
consciousness  of  playing  a  great  part  in  the  making 
of  an  empire  ;  his  horizon  is  large ;  but  he  finds  him- 
self surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  indifference  or 
non-comprehension  of  the  prodigiousness  of  his  coun- 
try, of  incredulity  as  to  the  refinement  and  luxury  of 
his  civilization ;  and  self-assertion  is  his  natural  de- 
fence. This  longitudinal  incredulity  and  swagger  is 
a  curious  phenomenon.  London  thinks  New  York 
puts  on  airs,  New  York  complains  of  Chicago's  want 
of  modesty,  Chicago  can  see  that  Kansas  City  and 
Omaha  are  aggressively  boastful,  and  these  cities  ac- 
knowledge the  expansive  self-appreciation  of  Denver 
and  Helena. 

Does  going  West  work  a  radical  difference  in  a 
man's  character?  Hardly.  We  are  all  cut  out  of 
the  same  piece  of  cloth.  The  Western  man  is  the 
Eastern  or  the  Southern  man  let  loose,  with  his  lead- 
ing-strings cut.  But  the  change  of  situation  creates 
immense  diversity  in  interests  and  in  spirit.  One  has 
but  to  take  up  any  of  the  great  newspapers,  say  in  St. 
Paul  or  Minneapolis,  to  be  aware  that  he  is  in  another 
world  of  ideas,  of  news,  of  interests.  The  topics  that 
most  interest  the  East  he  does  not  find  there,  nor  much 
of  its  news.  Persons  of  whom  he  reads  daily  in  the 
East  drop  out  of  sight,  and  other  persons,  magnates 
in  politics,  packing,  railways,  loom  up.     It  takes  col- 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


121 


uinns  to  tell  the  daily  history  of  places  which  have 
heretofore  only  caught  the  attention  of  the  Eastern 
reader  for  freaks  of  the  thermometer,  and  he  has  an 
opportunity  to  read  daily  pages  about  Dakota,  con- 
cerning which  a  weekly  paragraph  has  formerly  satis- 
fied his  curiosity.  Before  he  can  be  absorbed  in  these 
lively  and  intelligent  newspapers  he  must  change  the 
whole  current  of  his  thoughts,  and  take  up  other  sub- 
jects, persons,  and  places  than  those  that  have  occu- 
pied his  mind.     He  is  in  a  new  world. 

One  of  the  most  striking  facts  in  the  West  is  State 
pride,  attachment  to  the  State,  the  profound  belief  of 
every  citizen  that  his  State  is  the  best.  Engendered 
perhaps  at  first  by  a  permanent  investment  and  the 
spur  of  self-interest,  it  speedily  becomes  a  passion,  as 
strong  in  the  newest  State  as  it  is  in  any  one  of  the 
original  thirteen.  Rivalry  between  cities  is  sharp, 
and  civic  pride  is  excessive,  but  both  are  outdone  by 
the  larger  devotion  to  the  commonwealth.  And  this 
pride  is  developed  in  the  inhabitants  of  a  Territory  as 
soon  as  it  is  organized.  Montana  has  condensed  the 
ordinary  achievements  of  a  century  into  twenty  years, 
and  loyalty  to  its  present  and  expectation  of  its  future 
are  as  stronc:  in  its  citizens  as  is  the  attachment  of 
men  of  Massachusetts  to  the  State  of  nearl}''  three 
centuries  of  growth.  In  Nebraska  I  was  pleased  with 
the  talk  of  a  clergyman  who  had  just  returned  from 
three  months'  travel  in  Europe.  He  was  full  of  his 
novel  experiences ;  he  had  greatly  enjoyed  the  trip ; 
but  he  was  glad  to  get  back  to  Nebraska  and  its  full, 
vigorous  life.  In  England  and  on  the  Continent  he 
had  seen  much  to  interest  him  ;  but  he  could  not  help 
comparing  Europe  with  Nebraska ;  and  as  for  him, 


•;'t 


•  I 


\   '1 


^h^ 


122 


South  and  West. 


this  was  tlie  substance  of  it :  give  him  Nebraska  ev- 
ery time.  What  astonished  him  most,  and  wounded 
his  feelings  (and  there  was  a  note  of  pathos  in  his 
statement  of  it),  was  the  general  foreign  ignorance 
abroad  about  Nebraska — the  utter  failure  in  the  Eu- 
ropean mind  to  take  it  in.  I  felt  guilty,  for  to  me  it 
had  been  little  more  than  a  geographical  expression, 
and  I  presume  the  Continent  did  not  know  whether 
Nebraska  was  a  new  kind  of  patent  medicine  or  a 
new  sort  of  religion.  To  the  clergymen  this  igno- 
rance of  the  central,  richest,  about-to-be-the-most-im- 
portant  of  States,  was  simply  incredible. 

This  feeling  is  not  only  admirable  in  itself,  but  it 
has  an  incalculable  political  value,  especially  in  the 
West,  where  there  is  a  little  haze  as  to  the  limita- 
tions of  Federal  power,  and  a  notion  that  the  Consti- 
tution was  swaddling-clothes  for  an  infant,  which 
manly  limbs  may  need  to  kick  off.  Healthy  and 
even  assertive  State  pride  is  the  only  possible  coun- 
terbalance in  our  system  against  that  centralization 
which  tends  to  corruption  in  the  centre  and  weakness 
and  discontent  in  the  individual  members. 

It  should  be  added  that  the  West,  speaking  of  it 
generally,  is  defiantly  "American."  It  wants  a  more 
vigorous  and  assertive  foreign  policy.  Conscious  of 
its  power,  the  growing  pains  in  the  limbs  of  the  young 
giant  will  not  let  it  rest.  That  this  is  the  most  mag- 
nificent country,  that  we  have  the  only  government 
beyond  criticism,  that  our  civilization  is  far  and  away 
the  best,  does  not  admit  of  doubt.  It  is  refreshing  to 
see  men  who  believe  in  something  heartily  and  with- 
out reserve,  even  if  it  is  only  in  themselves.  There  is 
a  tonic  in  this  challenge  of  all  time  and  history.     A 


■U,«^^5, 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


123 


certain  attitude  of  American  assertion  towards  other 
powers  is  desired.  For  want  of  this  our  late  repre- 
sentatives to  Great  Britain  arc  said  to  be  un-Amer- 
ican ;  "political  dudes"  is  what  the  Governor  of  Iowa 
calls  them.  It  is  his  indictment  against  the  present 
Minister  to  St.  James  that  "ho  is  numerous  in  his  vis- 
its to  the  castles  of  English  noblemen,  and  profuse  in 
his  obsequiousness  to  British  aristocrats."  And  per- 
haps the  Governor  speaks  for  a  majority  of  Western 
voters  and  fighters  when  he  says  that "  timidity  has 
characterized  our  State  Department  for  the  last  twen- 
ty years." 

By  chance  I  begin  these  Western  studies  with  the 
North-west.  Passing  by  for  the  present  the  intelli- 
gent and  progressive  State  of  Wisconsin,  we  will  con- 
sider Minnesota  and  the  vast  region  at  present  more 
or  less  tributary  to  it.  It  is  necessary  to  remember 
that  the  State  was  admitted  to  the  Union  in  1858,  and 
that  its  extraordinary  industrial  development  dates 
from  the  building  of  the  first  railway  in  its  limits — 
ten  miles  from  St.  Paul  to  St.  Anthony — in  1862.  For 
this  road  the  first  stake  was  driven  and  the  first 
shovelful  of  earth  lifted  by  a  citizen  of  St.  Paul  who 
has  lived  to  see  his  State  gridironed  with  railways, 
and  whose  firm  constructed  in  1887  over  eleven  hun- 
dred miles  of  railroad. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  the  familiar  facts 
that  Minnesota  is  a  great  Avheat  State,  and  that  it  is 
intersected  by  railways  that  stimulate  the  enormous 
yield  and  market  it  with  facility.  The  discovery  that 
the  State,  especially  the  Red  River  Valley,  and  Da- 
kota and  the  country  beyond,  were  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  production  of  hard  spring-wheat,  which  is  the 


MM 


124 


iSouth  and  West. 


■-1  ■  * 


most  desirable  for  flour,  probably  gave  this  vast  re- 
gion its  first  immense  advantage.  Minnesota,  a  prairie 
country,  rolling,  but  with  no  important  hills,  well  wa- 
tered, M'ell  grassed,  with  a  repellent  reputation  for  se- 
vere winters,  not  well  adapted  to  corn,  nor  friendly  to 
most  fruits,  attracted  nevertheless  hardy  and  advent- 
urous people,  and  proved  specially  inviting  to  the 
Scandinavians,  who  are  tough  and  industrious.  It 
would  grow  wheat  without  end.  And  wheat  is  the 
easiest  crop  to  raise,  and  returns  the  greatest  income 
for  the  least  labor.  In  good  seasons  and  with  good 
prices  it  is  a  mine  of  wealth.  But  Minnesota  had  to 
learn  that  one  industry  does  not  suffice  to  make  a 
State,  and  that  wheat-raising  alone  is  not  only  unre- 
liable, but  exhaustive.  The  grasshopper  scourge  was 
no  doubt  a  blessing  in  disguise.  It  helped  to  turn 
the  attention  of  farmers  to  cattle  and  sheep,  and  to 
more  varied  agriculture.  I  shall  have  more  to  say 
about  this  in  connection  with  certain  most  interesting 
movements  in  Wisconsin. 

The  notion  has  prevailed  that  the  North-west  was 
being  absorbed  by  owners  of  immense  tracts  of  land, 
great  capitalists  who  by  the  aid  of  machinery  were 
monopolizing  the  production  of  wheat,  and  crowding 
out  small  farmers.  There  are  still  vast  wheat  farms 
under  one  control,  but  I  am  happy  to  believe  that  the 
danger  of  this  great  land  monopoly  has  reached  its 
height,  and  the  tendency  is  the  other  way.  Small 
farms  are  on  the  increase,  practising  a  more  varied 
agriculture.  The  reason  is  this :  A  plantation  of 
5000  or  15,000  acres,  with  a  good  season,  freedom 
from  blight  and  insects,  will  enrich  the  owner  if  prices 
are  good ;  but   one  poor  crop,  with  low  prices,  will 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country, 


125 


bankrupt  him.  Whereas  tho  small  farmer  can  get  a 
living  under  tho  most  adverse  circumstances,  and  tak- 
ing one  year  with  another,  accumulate  something,  es- 
pecially if  he  varies  his  products  and  feeds  them  to 
stock,  thus  returning  tho  richness  of  his  farm  to  itself. 
The  skinning  of  the  land  by  sending  away  its  sub- 
stance in  hard  wheat  is  an  improvidence  of  natural 
resources,  which  belongs,  like  cattle-ranging,  to  a  half- 
civilized  era,  and  like  cattle-ranging  has  probably  seen 
its  best  days.  One  incident  illustrates  what  can  bo 
done.  Mr.  James  J.  Ilill,the  president  of  the  Mani- 
toba railway  system,  an  importer  and  breeder  of  fine 
cattle  on  his  Minnesotf,  country  place,  recently  gave 
and  loaned  a  number  of  blooded  bulls  to  farmers  over 
a  wide  area  in  Minnesota  and  Dakota.  Tho  result  of 
this  benefaction  has  been  surprising  in  adding  to  the 
wealth  of  those  regions  and  the  prosperity  of  the 
farmers.  It  is  the  beginning  of  a  varied  farming  and 
of  cattle  production,  which  will  be  of  incalculable 
benefit  to  the  North-west. 

It  is  in  the  memory  of  men  still  in  active  life  when 
the  Territory  of  Minnesota  was  supposed  to  be  be- 
yond the  pale  of  desirable  settlement.  The  State,  ex- 
cept in  the  north-east  portion,  is  now  well  settled,  and 
well  sprinkled  with  thriving  villages  and  cities.  Of 
the  latter,  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis  are  still  a  wonder 
to  themselves,  as  they  are  to  tho  world.  I  knew  that 
they  were  big  cities,  having  each  a  population  nearly 
approaching  175,000,  but  I  was  not  prepared  to  find 
them  so  handsome  and  substantial,  and  exhibiting 
such  vigor  and  activity  of  movement.  One  of  the 
most  impressive  things  to  an  Eastern  man  in  both  of 
them  is  their  public   spirit,  and  the   harmony  with 


\\a 


■iwaM^si 


126 


South  and  West. 


n 


I  A     I 


h-i)) 


I  r  *'*' 


which  business  men  work  together  for  anything  which 
will  build  up  and  beautify  the  city.  I  believe  that 
the  ruling  force  in  Minneapolis  is  of  New  England 
stock,  while  St.  Paul  has  a  larger  proportion  of  New 
York  people,  with  a  mixture  of  Southern  ;  and  I  have 
a  fancy  that  there  is  a  social  shading  that  shows  this 
distinction.  It  is  worth  noting,  however,  that  the 
Southerner,  transplanted  to  Minnesota  or  Montana, 
loses  the  laisser  faire  with  which  he  is  credited  at 
home,  and  becomes  as  active  and  pushing  as  anybody. 
Both  cities  have  a  very  large  Scandinavian  population. 
The  laborers  and  the  domestic  servants  are  mostly 
Swedes.  In  forecasting  what  sort  of  a  State  Minne- 
sota is  to  be,  the  Scandinavian  is  a  largely  determin- 
ing force.  It  is  a  virile  element.  The  traveller  is 
impressed  with  the  idea  that  the  women  whom  he 
sees  at  the  stations  in  the  country  and  in  the  city 
streets  are  sturdy,  ruddy,  and  better  able  to  endure 
the  protracted  season  of  cold  and  the  highly  stimu- 
lating atmosphere  than  the  American-born  women, 
who  tend  to  become  nervous  in  these  climatic  condi- 
tions. The  Swedes  are  thrifty,  taking  eagerly  to 
politics,  and  as  ready  to  profit  by  them  as  anybody ; 
unreservedly  American  in  intention,  and  on  the  whole, 
good  citizens. 

The  physical  difference  of  the  two  cities  is  mainly 
one  of  situation.  Minneapolis  spreads  out  on  both 
sides  of  the  Mississippi  over  a  plain,  from  the  gigantic 
flouring-mills  and  the  canal  and  the  Falls  of  St.  An- 
thony as  a  centre  (the  falls  being,  by-the-way,  planked 
over  with  a  wooden  apron  to  prevent  the  total  w^ear- 
ing  away  of  the  shaly  rock)  to  rolling  land  and  beau- 
tiful building  sites  on  moderate  elevations.    Nature 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


127 


has  surrounded  the  city  with  a  lovely  country,  diversi- 
fied by  lakes  and  forests,  and  enterprise  has  developed 
it  into  one  of  the  most  inviting  of  summer  regions. 
Twelve  miles  west  of  it,  Lake  Minnetonka,  naturally 
surpassingly  lovely,  has  become,  by  an  immense  ex- 
penditure of  money,  perhaps  the  most  attractive  sum- 
mer resort  in  the  North-west.  Each  city  has  a  hotel 
(the  West  in  Minneapolis,  the  Ryan  in  St.  Paul)  which 
would  be  distinguished  monuments  of  cost  and  ele- 
gance in  any  city  in  the  world,  and  each  city  has 
blocks  of  business  houses,  shops,  and  offices  of  solidity 
and  architectural  beauty,  and  each  has  many  private 
residences  which  are  palaces  in  size,  in  solidity,  and 
interior  embellishment,  but  they  are  scattered  over 
the  city  in  Minneapolis,  which  can  boast  of  no  single 
street  equal  to  Summit  Avenue  in  St.  Paul.  The  most 
conspicuous  of  the  private  houses  is  the  stone  mansion 
of  Governor  Washburn,  pleasing  in  color,  harmonious 
in  design,  but  so  gigantic  that  the  visitor  (who  may 
have  seen  palaces  abroad)  expects  to  find  a  somewhat 
vacant  interior.  He  is  therefore  surprised  that  the 
predominating  note  is  homelikeness  and  comfort,  and 
he  does  not  see  how  a  family  of  moderate  size  could 
well  get  along  with  less  than  the  seventy  rooms  (most 
of  them  large)  which  they  have  at  their  disposal. 

St.  Paul  has  the  advantage  of  picturesqueness  of 
situation.  The  business  part  of  the  town  lies  on  a 
spacious  uneven  elevation  above  the  river,  surrounded 
by  a  semicircle  of  bluffs  averaging  something  like  two 
hundred  feet  high.  Up  the  sides  of  these  the  city 
climbs,  beautifying  every  vantage-ground  with  hand- 
some and  stately  residences.  On  the  north  the  bluffs 
maintain  their  elevation  in  a  splendid  plateau,  and 


\m 


I  I. 


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^i^ammmiaaimB 


rtrf» 


128 


South  and  West. 


w 

'A 
I 


over  this  dry  and  healthful  plain  the  two  cities  advance 
to  meet  each  other,  and  already  meet  in  suburbs,  col- 
leges, and  various  public  buildings,  f  nit  Avenue 
curves  along  the  line  of  the  northeir  uff,  and  then 
turns  northward,  two  hundred  feet  broad,  graded  a 
distance  of  over  two  miles,  and  with  a  magnificent 
asphalt  road-way  for  more  than  a  mile.  It  is  almost 
literally  a  street  of  palaces,for  although  wooden  struct- 
ures alternate  with  the  varied  and  architecturally  in- 
teresting mansions  of  stone  and  brick  on  both  sides, 
each  house  is  isolated,  with  a  handsome  lawn  and  orna- 
mental trees,  and  the  total  effect  is  spacious  and  noble. 
This  avenue  commands  an  almost  unequalled  view  of 
the  sweep  of  bluffs  round  to  the  Indian  Mounds,  of 
the  city,  the  winding  river,  and  the  town  and  heights 
of  West  St.  Paul.  It  is  not  easy  to  recall  a  street  and 
view  anywhere  finer  than  this,  and  this  is  only  one  of 
the  streets  on  this  plateau  conspicuous  for  handsome 
houses.  I  see  no  reason  why  St.  Paul  should  not  be- 
come, within  a  few  years,  one  of  the  notably  most 
beautiful  cities  in  the  world.  And  it  is  now  wonder- 
fully well  advanced  in  that  direction.  Of  course  the 
reader  understands  that  both  these  rapidly  growing 
cities  are  in  the  process  of  "  making,"  and  that  means 
cutting  and  digging  and  slashing,  torn-up  streets, 
shabby  structures  alternating  with  gigantic  and  solid 
buildings,  and  the  usual  unsightliness  of  transition  and 
growth. 

Minneapolis  has  the  State  University,  St.  Paul  the 
Capitol,  an  ordinary  building  of  brick,  which  will  not 
long,  it  is  safe  to  say,  suit  the  needs  of  the  pride  of 
the  State.  I  do  not  set  out  to  describe  the  city,  the 
churches,  big  newspaper  buildings,  great   wholesale 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


129 


and  ware  houses,  handsome  club-house  (the  Minnesota 
Club),  stately  City  Hall,  banks,  Chamber  of  Commerce, 
and  so  on.  I  was  impressed  with  the  size  of  the  build- 
ings needed  to  house  the  great  railway  offices.  Noth- 
ing can  give  one  a  livelier  idea  of  the  growth  and 
grasp  of  Western  business  than  one  of  these  plain 
structures,  five  or  six  stories  high,  devoted  to  the  sev- 
eral departments  of  one  road  or  system  of  roads, 
crowded  with  busy  officials  and  clerks,  offices  of  the 
president,  vice-president,  assistant  of  the  president, 
secretary,  treasurer,  engineer,  general  manager,  gen- 
eral superintendent,  general  freight,  general  traffic, 
general  passenger,  perhaps  a  land  officer,  and  so  on — 
affairs  as  complicated  and  vast  in  organization  and  ex- 
tensive in  detail  as  those  of  a  State  government. 

There  are  sixteen  railways  which  run  in  Minnesota, 
having  a  total  mileage  of  6024  miles  in  the  State. 
Those  which  have  over  two  hundred  miles  of  road  in 
the  State  are  the  Chicago  and  North-western,  Chicago, 
Milwaukee,  and  St.  Paul,  Chicago,  St.  Paul,  Minneapo- 
lis, and  Omaha,  Minneapolis  and  St.  Louis,  Northern 
Pacific,  St.  Paul  and  Duluth,  and  the  St.  Paul,  Minne- 
apolis, and  Manitoba.  The  names  of  these  roads  give 
little  indication  of  their  location,  as  the  reader  knows, 
for  many  of  them  run  all  over  the  North-west  like 
spider-webs. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  management  of 
these  great  interests — imperial,  almost  continental  in 
scope — requires  brains,  sobriety,  integrity ;  and  one  is 
not  surprised  to  find  that  the  railways  command  and 
pay  liberally  for  the  highest  talent  and  skill.  It  is 
not  merely  a  matter  of  laying  rails  and  running  trains, 
but  of  developing  the  resources — one  might  almost  say 
9 


130 


South  and  West. 


i 


creating  the  industries  —  of  vast  territories.  These 
are  gigantic  interests,  concerning  which  there  is  such 
sharp  rivalry  and  competition,  and  as  a  rule  it  is  the 
generous,  large-minded  policy  that  wins.  Somebody 
has  said  that  the  railway  managers  and  magnates  (I 
do  not  mean  those  who  deal  in  railways  for  the  sake 
of  gambling)  are  the  Uite  of  Western  life.  I  am  not 
drawing  distinctions  of  this  sort,  but  I  will  snj'^,  and 
it  might  as  well  be  said  here  and  simply,  that  next  to 
the  impression  I  got  of  the  powerful  hand  of  the  rail- 
ways in  the  making  of  the  West,  was  that  of  the  high 
character,  the  moral  stamina,  the  ability,  the  devotion 
to  something  outside  themselves,  of  the  railway  men 
I  met  in  the  North-west.  Specialists  many  of  them 
are,  and  absorbed  in  special  work,  but  I  doubt  if  any 
other  profession  or  occupation  can  show  a  proportion- 
ally larger  number  of  broad-minded,  fair-minded  men, 
of  higher  integrity  and  less  pettiness,  or  more  inclined 
to  the  liberalizing  culture  in  art  and  social  life.  Ei- 
ther dealing  with  large  concerns  has  lifted  up  the 
men,  or  the  large  opportunities  have  attracted  men  of 
high  talent  and  character;  and  I  sincerely  believe  that 
we  should  have  no  occasion  for  anxiety  if  the  average 
community  did  not  go  below  the  standard  of  railway 
morality  and  honorable  dealing. 

What  is  the  raison  (fetre  of  these  two  phenomenal 
cities  ?  why  do  they  grow  ?  why  are  they  likely  to 
continue  to  grow  ?  I  confess  that  this  was  an  enigma 
to  me  until  I  had  looked  beyond  to  see  what  country 
was  tributary  to  them,  what  a  territory  they  have  to 
supply.  Of  course,  the  railways,  the  flouring -mills, 
the  vast  wholesale  dry  goods  and  grocery  houses  speak 
for  themselves.     But  I  had  thought  of  these  cities  as 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


131 


on  the  confines  of  civilization.  They  are,  however, 
the  two  posts  of  the  gate-way  to  an  empire.  In  order 
to  comprehend  their  future,  I  made  some  little  trips 
north-east  and  north-west. 

Duluth,  though  as  yet  with  only  about  twenty-five 
to  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  feels  itself,  by  its  posi- 
tion, a  rival  of  the  cities  on  the  Mississippi.  A  few 
figures  show  the  basis  of  this  feeling.  In  1880  the 
population  was  3740 ;  in  1886,  25,000.  In  1880  the 
receipts  of  wheat  were  1,347,679  bushels;  in  1886, 
22,425,730  bushels  ;  in  1880  the  shipments  of  wheat 
1,453,647  bushels ;  in  1886, 17,981,965  bushels.  In  1880 
the  shipments  of  flour  were  651,800  bushels  ;  in  1886, 
1,500,000  bushels.  In  1886  there  were  grain  elevators 
with  a  capacity  of  18,000,000  bushels.  The  tax  valu- 
ation had  increased  from  $669,012  in  1880  to  $11,773,- 
729  in  1886.  The  following  comparisons  are  made  : 
The  receipt  of  wheat  in  Chicago  in  1885  was  19,266,- 
000  bushels;  in  Duluth,  14,880,000  bushels.  The  re- 
ceipt of  wheat  in  1886  was  at  Duluth  22,425,730  bush- 
els; at  Minneapolis,  33,394,450;  at  Chicago,  15,982,524; 
at  Milwaukee,  7,930,102.  This  shows  that  an  increas- 
ing amount  of  the  great  volume  of  whea*.  raised  in 
north  Dakota  and  north-west  Minnesota  (t'nat  is,  large- 
ly in  the  Red  River  Valley)  is  seeking  market  by  way 
of  Duluth  and  water  transportation.  In  1869  Min- 
nesota raised  about  18,000,000  bushels  of  wheat;  in 
1886,  about  60,000,000.  In  1869  Dakota  grew  no 
grain  at  all ;  in  1886  it  produced  about  60,000,000 
bushels  of  wheat.  To  undek'stand  the  amount  of 
transportation  the  reader  has  only  to  look  on  the  map 
and  see  the  railway  lines — ^the  Northern  Pacific,  the 
Chicago,  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Omaha,  the  St. 


132 


South  and  West. 


r'J^ 


Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Manitoba,  and  other  lines,  run- 
ning to  Duluth,  and  sending  out  spurs,  like  the  roots 
of  an  elm-tree,  into  the  wheat  lands  of  the  North-west. 

Most  of  t\^f)  route  from  St.  Paul  to  Duluth  is  unin- 
teresti-ig  ;  i^eee  is  nothing  picturesque  except  the 
Dalles  of  the  St.  Louis  River,  and  a  good  deal  of  the 
country  passed  through  seems  agriculturally  of  no 
value.  The  approaches  to  Duluth,  both  from  the 
Wisconsir  "'  -^  th2  Minnesota  side,  are  rough  and 
vexatious  oy  en  "jn  of  broken,  low,  humraocky,  and 
swamp  land.  Diilnilj  itself,  with  good  harbor  facili- 
ties, I  ""s  onl  ;  a  Ftrip  ^P  ■'"^el  ground  for  a  street,  and 
inadequate  room  ^or  „  .ay  tracks  and  transfers. 
The  town  itself  climbs  no  hiil,  whence  there  is  a 
good  view  of  the  lake  and  the  Wisconsin  shore,  and  a 
fair  chance  for  both  summer  and  winter  breezes.  The 
residence  portion  of  the  town,  mainly  small  wooden 
houses,  has  many  highly  ornamental  dwellings,  and 
the  long  street  below,  following  the  shore,  has  many 
noble  buildings  of  stone  and  brick,  which  would  be  a 
credit  to  any  city.  Grading  and  sewer-making  render 
a  large  number  of  the  streets  impassable,  and  add  to 
the  signs  of  push,  growth,  and  business  excitement. 

For  the  purposes  of  trade,  Duluth,  and  the  towns  of 
Superior  and  West  Superior,  in  Wisconsin,  may  be 
considered  one  port ;  and  while  Duluth  may  continue 
to  be  the  money  and  business  centre,  the  expansion 
for  railway  terminal  facilities,  elevators,  and  manu- 
factures is  likely  to  be  in  the  Wisconsin  towns  on  the 
south  side  of  the  harbor.  From  the  Great  Northern 
Elevator  in  West  Superior  the  view  of  the  other  ele- 
vators, of  the  immense  dock  room,  of  the  harbor  and 
lake,  of  a  net-work  of  miles  and  miles  of  terminal 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


133 


tracks  of  the  various  roads,  gives  one  an  idea  of  gigan- 
tic commerce  ;  and  the  long  freight  trains  laden  with 
wheat,  glutting  all  the  roads  and  sidings  approaching 
Duluth,  speak  of  the  bursting  abundance  of  the  trib- 
utary country.  This  Great  Northern  Elevator,  be- 
longing to  the  Manitoba  system,  is  the  largest  in  the 
world ;  its  dimensions  are  360  feet  long,  95  in  width, 
115  in  height,  with  a  capacity  of  1,800,000  bushels,, 
and  with  facilities  for  handling  40  car-loads  an  hour, 
or  400  cars  in  a  day  of  10  hours.  As  I  am  merely  il- 
lustrating the  amount  of  the  present  great  staple  of 
the  North-west,  I  say  nothing  here  of  the  mineral, 
stone,  and  lumber  business  of  this  region.  Duluth 
has  a  cool,  salubrious  summer  and  a  snug  winter  cli- 
mate. I  ought  to  add  that  the  enterprising  inhabi- 
tants attend  to  education  as  well  as  the  elevation  of 
grain  ;  the  city  has  eight  commodious  school  build- 
ings. 

To  return  to  the  Mississippi.  To  understand  what 
feeds  Minneapolis  and  St.  Paul,  and  what  country 
their  great  wholesale  houses  supply,  one  must  take 
the  rail  and  penetrate  the  vast  North-west.  The  fa- 
mous Park  or  Lake  district,  between  St.  Cloud  (75 
miles  north-west  of  St.  Paul)  and  Fergus  Falls,  is  tqo 
well  known  to  need  description.  A  rolling  prairie, 
with  hundreds  of  small  lakes,  tree  fringed,  it  is  a  re- 
gion of  surpassing  loveliness,  and  already  dotted,  as 
at  Alexandria,  with  summer  resorts.  The  whole  re- 
gion, up  as  far  as  Moorhead  (240  miles  from  St.  Paul), 
on  the  Red  River,  opposite  Fargo,  Dakota,  is  well  set- 
tled, and  full  of  prosperous  towns.  At  Fargo,  cross- 
ing the  Northern  Pacific,  we  ran  parallel  with  the  Red 
River,  through  a  line  of  bursting  elevators  and  wheat 


■HidiMailtt*i 


134 


South  and  West 


fS'-il 


farms,  down  to  Grand  Forks,  where  we  turned  west- 
ward, and  passed  out  of  the  Red  River  Valley,  rising 
to  the  plateau  at  Larimore,  sjme  three  hundred  feet 
above  it. 

The  Red  River,  a  narrow  but  deep  and  navigable 
stream,  has  from  its  source  to  Lake  Winnipeg  a  tort- 
uous course  of  about  600  miles,  while  the  valley  itself 
is  about  285  miles  long,  of  which  180  miles  is  in  the 
United  States.  This  valley,  which  has  astonished  the 
world  by  its  wheat  production,  is  about  160  miles  in 
breadth,  and  level  as  a  floor,  except  that  it  has  a 
northward  slope  of,  I  believe,  about  five  feet  to  the 
mile.  The  river  forms  the  boundary  between  Minne- 
sota and  Dakota ;  the  width  of  valley  on  the  Dakota 
side  varies  from  60  to  100  miles.  The  rich  soil  is 
from  two  to  three  feet  deep,  underlaid  with  clay. 
Fargo,  the  centre  of  this  valley,  is  940  feet  above  the 
sea.  The  climate  is  one  of  extremes  between  winter 
and  summer,  but  of  much  constancy  of  cold  or  heat 
according  to  the  season.  Although  it  is  undeniable 
that  one  does  not  feel  the  severe  cold  there  as  much 
as  in  more  humid  atmospheres,  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  long  continuance  of  extreme  cold  is  trying  to 
the  system.  And  it  may  be  said  of  all  the  North-west, 
including  Minnesota,  that  while  it  is  more  favorable 
to  the  lungs  than  many  regions  where  the  thermometer 
has  less  sinking  power,  it  is  not  free  from  catarrh  (the 
curse  of  New  England),  nor  from  rheumatism.  The 
climate  seems  to  me  specially  stimulating,  and  I 
should  say  there  is  less  excuse  here  for  the  use  of 
stimulants  (on  account  of  "lowness"  or  lassitude) 
than  in  almost  any  other  portion  of  the  United  States 
with  which  I  am  acquainted. 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


135 


But  whatever  attractions  or  drawbacks  this  terri- 
tory has  as  a  place  of  residence,  its  grain  and  stock 
growing  capacity  is  inexhaustible,  and  having  seen  it, 
we  begin  to  comprehend  the  vigorous  activity  and 
growth  of  the  twin  cities.  And  yet  this  is  the  begin- 
ning of  resources  ;  there  lies  Dakota,  with  its  149,100 
square  miles  (96,590,480  acres  of  land),  larger  than 
all  the  New  England  States  and  New  York  combined, 
and  Montana  beyond,  together  making  a  belt  of  hard 
spring-wheat  land  sufficient,  one  would  think,  to  feed 
the  world.  When  one  travels  over  1200  miles  of  it, 
doubt  ceases. 

I  cannot  better  illustrate  the  resources  and  enter- 
prise of  the  North-west  than  by  speaking  in  some  de- 
tail of  the  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Manitoba  Rail- 
way (known  as  the  Manitoba  system),  and  by  telling 
briefly  the  story  of  one  season's  work,  not  because 
this  system  is  bigger  or  more  enterprising  or  of  more 
importance  in  the  West  than  some  others  I  might 
name,  but  because  it  has  lately  pierced  a  compara- 
tively unknown  region,  and  opened  to  settlement  a 
fertile  empire. 

The  Manitoba  system  gridirons  north  Minnesota, 
runs  to  Duluth,  puts  two  tracks  down  the  Red  River 
Valley  (one  on  each  side  of  the  river)  to  the  Canada 
line,  sends  out  various  spurs  into  Dakota,  and  operates 
a  main  line  from  Grand  Forks  westward  through  the 
whole  of  Dakota,  and  through  Montana  as  far  as  the 
Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri,  and  thence  through  the 
canon  of  the  Missouri  and  the  caiion  of  the  Prickly- 
Pear  to  Helena — in  all  about  3000  miles  of  track.  Its 
president  is  Mr.  James  J.  Hill,  a  Canadian  by  birth, 
whose  rapid  career  from  that  of  a  clerk  on  the  St. 


136 


South  and  West 


m 


Paul  levee  to  Lis  present  position  of  influence,  oppor- 
tunity, and  wealth  is  a  romance  in  itself,  and  whose 
character,  integrity,  tastes,  and  accomplishments,  and 

•  domestic  life,  were  it  proper  to  speak  of  them,  would 
satisfactorily  answer  many  of  the  questions  that  are 
asked  about  the  materialistic  West. 

The  Manitoba  line  west  had  reached  Minot,  630 
miles  from  St.  Paul,  in  1886.  I  shall  speak  of  its  ex- 
tension in  1887,  which  was  intrusted  to  Mr.  D.  C 
Shepard,  a  veteran  engineer  and  railway  builder  of 
yt.  Paul,  and  his  firm,  Messrs.  Shepard,  Winston  & 
Co.  Credit  should  be  given  by  name  to  the  men  who 
conducted  this  Napoleonic  enterprise  ;  for  it  required 
not  only  the  advance  of  millions  of  money,  but  the 
foresight,  energy,  vigilance,  and  capacity  that  insure 
success  in  a  distant  military  campaign. 

It  needs  to  be  noted  that  the  continuation  of  the 
St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Manitoba  road  from  Great 
Falls  to  Helena,  08  miles,  is  called  the  Montana  Cen- 
tral. The  work  to  bo  accomplished  in  1887  was  to 
grade  500  miles  of  railroad  to  reach  Great  Falls,  to 
put  in  the  bridging  and  mechanical  structures  (by 
hauling  all  material  brought  up  by  rail  ahead  of  the 
track  by  teams,  so  as  not  to  delay  the  progress  of  the 
track)  on  630  miles  of  continuous  railway,  and  to  lay 
and  put  in  good  running  condition  643  miles  of  rails 

'  continuously  and  from  one  end  only. 

In  the  winter  of  1880-87  the  road  was  completed 
to  a  point  five  miles  west  of  Minot,  and  work  was 
done  beyond  which  if  consolidated  would  amount  to 
about  fifty  miles  of  completed  grading,  and  the  me- 
chanical structures  were  done  for  twenty  miles  west 
from  Minot.     On  the  Montana  Central  the  grading 


A  Fwr  and  Fair  Country. 


137 


and  mechanical  structures  were  made  from  Helena 
as  a  base,  and  completed  before  the  track  reached 
Great  Falls.  St.  Paul,  Minneapc.ls,  and  Duluth  were 
the  primary  bases  of  operations,  and  generally  speak- 
ing all  materials,  labor,  fuel,  and  supplies  originated 
at  these  three  points  ;  Minot  was  the  secondary  base, 
and  here  in  the  winter  of  1880-87  large  depots  of  sup- 
plies and  materials  for  construction  were  formed. 

Track-laying  began  April  2,  1887,  but  was  greatly 
retarded  by  snow  and  ice  in  the  completed  cuts,  and 
by  the  grading,  which  was  heavy.  The  cuts  were 
frozen  more  or  less  up  to  May  15th.  The  forwarding 
of  grading  forces  to  Minot  began  April  0th,  but  it 
was  a  labor  of  considerable  magnitude  to  outfit  them 
at  Minot  and  get  them  forward  to  the  work  ;  so  that 
it  was  as  late  as  May  10th  before  the  entire  force  was 
under  employment. 

The  average  force  on  the  grading  was  3300  teams 
and  about  8000  men.  Upon  the  track-laying,  surfac- 
ing, piling,  and  timber-work  there  were  225  teams 
and  about  050  men.  The  heaviest  work  was  en- 
countered on  the  eastern  end,  so  that  the  track  was 
close  upon  the  grading  up  to  the  10th  of  June.  Some 
of  the  cuttings  and  embankments  were  heavy.  After 
the  10th  of  June  progress  upon  the  grading  was  very 
rapid.  From  the  mouth  of  Milk  River  to  Great  Falls 
(a  distance  of  200  miles)  grading  was  done  at  an 
average  rate  of  seven  miles  a  day.  Those  who  saw 
this  array  of  men  and  teams  stretching  over  the 
prairie  and  casting  up  this  continental  highway  think 
they  beheld  one  of  the  most  striking  achievements  of 
civilization. 

I  may  mention  that  the  track  is  all  cast  up  (even 


(i 


i 


138 


South  and  West. 


where  the  grading  is  easy)  to  such  a  height  as  to  re- 
lieve it  of  drifting  snow ;  and  to  give  some  idea  of 
the  character  of  the  work,  it  is  noted  that  in  preparing 
it  there  were  moved  9,700,000  cubic  yards  of  earth, 
15,000  cubic  yards  of  loose  rock,  and  17,600  cubic 
yards  of  solid  rock,  and  that  there  were  hauled  ahead 
of  the  track  and  put  in  the  work  to  such  distance  as 
would  not  obstruct  the  track -laying  (in  some  in- 
Htances  30  miles),  9,000,000  feet  (board  measure)  of 
timber  and  390,000  lineal  feet  of  piling. 

On  the  6th  of  August  the  grading  of  the  entire  line 
to  Great  Falls  was  either  finished  or  properly  manned 
for  its  completion  the  first  day  of  September,  and  on 
the  10th  of  August  it  became  necessary  to  remove 
outfits  to  the  east  as  they  completed  their  work,  and 
about  2500  teams  and  their  quota  of  men  were  with- 
drawn between  the  10th  and  20th  of  August,  and 
placed  upon  work  elsewhere. 

The  record  of  track  laid  is  as  follows  :  April  2d  to 
30th, 30  miles;  May,  82  miles;  June,  79.8  miles;  July, 
100.8  miles;  August,  115.4  miles;  September,  102.4 
miles;  up  to  October  15th  to  Great  Falls,  34.6  miles 
— a  total  to  Great  Falls  of  545  miles.  October  16th 
6eing  Sunday,  no  track  was  laid.  The  track  started 
from  Great  Falls  Monday,  October  I7th,  and  reached 
Helena  on  Friday,  November  18th,  a  distance  of  98 
miles,  making  a  grand  total  of  643  miles,  and  an  aver- 
age rate  for  every  working-day  of  three  and  one- 
quarter  miles.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that  laying  a 
good  road  was  a  much  more  expeditious  method  of 
reaching  the  Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri  than  that 
adopted  by  Lewis  and  Clarke. 

Some  of  the  details  of  this  construction  and  track- 


A  Far  a/i\d  Fair  Country. 


139 


layinj?  will  interest  railroad  men.  On  the  10th  of  July 
7  miles  and  1040  feet  of  track  were  laid,  and  on  the 
8th  of  August  8  miles  and  60  feet  were  laid,  in  each 
instance  by  daylight,  and  by  the  regular  gang  of 
track-layers,  without  any  increase  of  their  numbers 
whatever.  The  entire  work  was  done  by  handling 
the  iron  on  low  iron  cars,  and  depositing  it  on  the 
track  from  the  car  at  the  front  end.  The  method 
pursued  was  the  same  as  when  one  mile  of  track  is 
laid  per  day  in  the  ordinary  manner.  The  force  of 
track-layers  was  maintained  at  the  proper  number  for 
the  ordinary  daily  work,  and  was  never  increased  to 
obtain  any  special  result.  The  result  on  the  1  th  of 
August  was  probably  decreased  by  a  quarter  to  a  half 
mile  by  the  breaking  of  an  axle  of  an  iron  car  while 
going  to  the  front  with  its  load  at  about  4  p.m.  From 
six  to  eight  iron  cars  were  employed  in  do  ig  this  diiy's 
work.  The  number  ordinarily  used  was  four  to  five. 
Sidings  were  graded  at  intervals  of  seven  to  eight 
miles^  and  spur  tracks,  laid  on  the  natural  surface, 
put  in  at  convenient  points,  sixteen  miles  apart,  for 
storage  of  materials  and  supplies  at  or  near  the  front. 
As  the  work  went  on,  the  spur  tracks  in  the  rear  were 
taken  up.  The  construction  train  contained  box  cars 
two  and  three  stories  high,  in  which  workmen  were 
boarded  and  lodged.  Supplies,  as  a  rule,  were  taken 
by  wagon-trains  from  the  spur  tracks  near  the  front 
to  their  destination,  an  average  distance  of  one  hun- 
dred miles  and  an  extreme  one  of  two  hundred  miles. 
Steamboats  were  employed  to  a  limited  extent  on  the 
Missouri  River  in  supplying  such  remote  points  as 
Fort  Benton  and  the  Coal  Banks,  but  not  more  than 
fifteen  per  cent,  of  the  transportation  was  done  by 


140 


South  and  West. 


steamers.  A  single  item  illustrating  the  magnitude 
of  the  supply  transportation  is  that  there  were  shipped 
to  Minot  and  forwarded  and  consumed  on  the  work 
590,000  bushels  of  oats. 

It  is  believed  that  the  work  of  grading  500  miles  of 
railroad  in  five  months,  and  the  transportation  \vAo  the 
country  of  everything  consumed,  grass  and  water  ex- 
cepted, and  of  every  rail,  tie,  bit  of  timber,  pile,  tool, 
machine,  man,  or  team  employed,  and  laying  643  miles 
of  track  in  seven  and  a  half  months,  from  one  end, 
far  exceeds  in  magnitude  and  rapidity  of  execution 
any  similar  undertaking  in  this  or  any  other  country. 
It  reflects  also  the  greatest  credit  on  the  managers  of 
the  rai'way  transportation  (it  is  not  invidious  to  men- 
tion the  names  of  Mr.  A.  Manvel,  general  manager,  and 
Mr.  J.  M.  Egan,  general  superintendent,  upon  whom 
the  working  details  devolved)  when  it  is  stated  that 
the  delays  for  material  or  supplies  on  the  entire  work 
did  not  retard  it  in  the  aggregate  one  hour.  And 
every  hour  counted  in  this  masterly  campaign. 

The  Western  people  apparently  think  no  more  of 
throwing  down  a  railroad,  if  they  want  to  go  any- 
where, than  a  conservative  Easterner  does  of  taking 
an  r  accustomed  walk  across  country;  and  the  rail- 
way constructors  and  managers  are  a  little  amused  at 
the  Eastern  slowness  and  want  of  facility  in  construc- 
tion and  management.  One  hears  that  the  East  is  an- 
tiquated, and  does  not  know  anything  about  railroad 
building.  Shovels,  carts,  and  wheelbarrows  are  of  a 
past  age  ;  the  big  wheel-scraper  docs  the  business.  It 
is  a  common  remark  that  a  contractor  accustomed  to 
Eastern  work  is  not  desired  on  a  Western  job. 

On  Friday  afternoon,  November  18th,  the  news  was 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


141 


flashed  that  the  last  rail  was  laid,  and  at  6  p.m.  a  spe- 
cial train  was  on  the  way  from  St.  Paul  with  a  double 
complement  of  engineers  and  train-men.  For  the  first 
600  miles  there  was  more  or  less  delay  in  avoiding  the 
long  and  frequent  freight  trains,  but  after  that  not 
much  except  the  necessary  stops  for  cleaning  the  en- 
gine. Great  Falls,  about  1 100  miles,  was  reached  Sun- 
day noon,  in  thirty-six  hours,  an  average  of  over 
thirty  miles  an  hour.  A  part  of  the  time  the  speed 
was  as  much  as  fifty  miles  an  hour.  The  track  was 
solid,  evenly  graded,  heavily  tied,  well  aligned,  and 
the  cars  ran  over  it  with  no  more  swing  and  bounce 
than  on  an  old  road.  The  only  exception  to  this  is 
the  piece  from  Great  Falls  to  Helena,  which  had  not 
been  surfaced  all  the  way.  It  is  excellent  railway 
construction,  and  it  is  necessary  to  emphasize  this  when 
we  consider  the  rapidity  with  which  it  was  built. 

The  company  has  built  this  road  without  land  grant 
or  subsidy  of  any  kind.  The  Montana  extension, 
from  Minot,  Dakota,  to  Great  Falls,  runs  mostly 
through  Indian  and  military  reservations,  permission 
to  pass  through  being  given  by  special  Act  of  Con- 
gress, and  the  company  buying  200  feet  road-way. 
Little  of  it,  therefore,  is  open  to  settlement. 

These  reservations,  naming  'hem  in  order  westward, 
are  as  follows :  The  Fort  Berthold  Indian  reservation, 
Dakota,  the  eastern  boundary  of  which  is  twenty-seven 
miles  west  of  Minot,  has  an  area  of  4550  square  miles 
(about  as  large  as  Connecticut),  or  2,912,000  acres. 
The  Fort  Buford  military  reservation,  lying  in  Dakota 
and  Montana,  has  an  area  of  900  square  miles,  or  5*76,- 
000  acres.  The  Blackfeet  Indian  reserve  has  an  area 
of  34,000  square  miles  (the  State  of  New  York  has  46,- 


if 


142 


South  and  West. 


000),  or  21,760,000  acres.  The  Fort  Assiniboin  mili- 
tary reserve  has  an  area  of  869.82  square  miles,  or 
556,684  acres. 

It  is  a  liberal  estimate  that  there  are  6000  Indians 
on  the  Blackfeet  and  Fort  Berthold  reservations.  As 
nearly  as  I  could  ascertain,  there  are  not  over  3500 
Indians  (some  of  those  I  saw  were  Crees  on  a  long 
visit  from  Canada)  on  the  Blackfeet  reservation  of 
about  22,000,000  acres.  Some  judges  put  the  number 
as  low  as  2500  to  all  this  territory,  and  estimate  that 
there  was  about  one  Indian  to  ten  square  miles,  or  one 
Indian  family  to  fifty  square  miles.  We  rode  through 
300  miles  of  this  territory  along  the  Milk  River,  near- 
ly every  acre  of  it  good  soil,  with  thick,  abundant 
grass,  splendid  wheat  land. 

I  have  no  space  to  take  up  the  Indian  problem. 
But  the  present  condition  of  affairs  is  neither  fair  to 
white  settlers  nor  just  or  humane  to  the  Indians. 
These  big  reservations  are  of  no  use  to  them,  nor  they 
to  the  reservations.  The  buffaloes  have  disappeared  ; 
they  do  not  live  by  hunting  ;  they  cultivate  very  lit- 
tle ground  ;  they  use  little  even  to  pasture  their  po- 
nies. They  are  fed  and  clothed  by  the  Government, 
and  they  camp  about  the  agencies  in  idleness,  under 
conditions  that  pauperize  them,  destroy  their  man- 
hood, degrade  them  into  dependent,  vicious  lives. 
The  reservations  ought  to  be  sold,  and  the  proceeds 
devoted  to  educating  the  Indians  and  setting  them  up 
in  a  self-sustaining  existence.  They  should  be  al- 
lotted an  abundance  of  good  land,  in  the  region  to 
which  they  are  acclimated,  in  severalty,  and  under 
such  restrictions  that  they  cannot  alienate  it  at  least 
for  a  generation  or  two.     As  the  Indian  is  now,  he 


if  i 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


143 


will  neither  work,  nor  keep  clean,  nor  live  decently. 
Close  to,  the  Indian  is  not  a  romantic  object,  and  cer- 
tainly no  better  now  morally  than  Lewis  and  Clarke 
depicted  him  in  1804.  But  he  is  a  man;  he  has  been 
barbarously  treated;  and  it  is  certainly  not  beyond 
honest  administration  and  Christian  effort  to  better 
his  condition.  And  his  condition  will  not  be  im- 
proved simply  by  keeping  from  settlement  and  civil- 
ization the  magnificent  agricultural  territory  that  is 
reserved  to  him. 

Of  this  almost  unknown  country,  pierced  by  the 
road  west  from  Larimore,  I  can  only  make  the  brief- 
est notes.  I  need  not  say  that  this  open,  unobstructed 
highway  of  arable  land  and  habitable  country,  from 
the  Red  River  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  was  an  as- 
tonishment to  me ;  but  it  is  more  to  the  purpose  to 
say  that  the  fertile  region  was  a  surprise  to  railway 
men  who  are  perfectly  familiar  with  the  West. 

We  had  passed  some  snow  in  the  night,  which  had 
been  very  cold,  but  there  was  very  little  at  Larimore, 
a  considerable  town  ;  there  was  a  high,  raw  wind 
during  the  day,  and  a  temperature  of  about  10° 
above,  which  heavily  frosted  the  car  windows.  At 
Devil's  Lake  (a  body  of  brackish  water  twenty-eight 
miles  long)  is  a  settlement  three  years  old,  and  from 
this  and  two  insignificant  stations  beyond  were  shipped, 
in  1887, 1,500,000  bushels  of  wheat.  The  country  be- 
yond is  slightly  rolling,  fine  land,  has  much  wheat, 
little  houses  scattered  about,  some  stock,  very  promis- 
ing altogether.  Minot,  where  we  crossed  the  Mouse 
River  the  second  time,  is  a  village  of  700  people,  with 
several  brick  houses  and  plenty  of  saloons.  Thence 
we  ran  up  to  a  plateau  some  three  hundred  feet  high- 


t  fj 


i' 


144 


South  and  West. 


Im^' 


■•IT  * 


m;.m 


er  than  the  Mouse  River  Valley,  and  found  a  land 
more  broken,  and  interspersed  with  rocky  land  and 
bowlders — the  only  touch  of  "  bad  lands  "  I  recall  on 
the  route.  We  crossed  several  small  streams,  White 
Earth,  Sandy,  Little  Muddy,  and  Muddy,  and  before 
reaching  Williston  descended  into  the  valley  of  the 
Missouri,  reached  Fort  Buford,  where  the  Yellowstone 
comes  in,  entered  what  is  called  Paradise  Valley,  and 
continued  parallel  with  the  Missouri  as  far  as  the 
mouth  of  Milk  River.  Before  reaching  this  we 
crossed  the  Big  Muddy  and  the  Poplar  rivers,  both 
rising  in  Canada.  At  Poplar  Station  is  a  large  Ind- 
ian agency,  and  hundreds  of  Teton  Sioux  Indians  (I 
was  told  1800)  camped  there  in  their  conical  tepees. 
I  climbed  the  plateau  above  the  station  where  the  Ind- 
ians bury  their  dead,  wrapping  the  bodies  in  blankets 
and  buffalo-robes,  and  suspending  them  aloft  on  cross- 
bars supported  by  stakes,  to  keep  them  from  the 
wolves.  Beyond  Assiniboin  I  saw  a  platform  in  a 
cottonwood-tree  on  which  reposed  the  remains  of  a 
chief  and  his  family.  This  country  is  all  good,  so  far 
as  I  could  see  and  learn. 

It  gave  me  a  sense  of  geographical  deficiency  in 
my  education  to  travel  three  hundred  miles  on  a  river 
I  had  never  heard  of  before.  But  it  happened  on  the 
Milk  River,  a  considerable  but  not  navigable  stream, 
although  some  six  hundred  miles  long.  The  broad 
Milk  River  Valley  is  in  itself  an  empire  of  excellent 
land,  ready  for  the  plough  and  the  wheat -sower. 
Judging  by  the  grass  (which  cures  into  the  most 
nutritious  feed  as  it  stands),  there  had  been  no  lack  of 
rain  during  the  summer ;  but  if  there  is  lack  of  water, 
all  the  land  can  be  irrigated  by  the  Milk  River,  and 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


145 


it  may  also  be  said  of  the  country  beyond  to  Great 
Falls  that  frequent  streams  make  irrigation  easy,  if 
there  is  scant  rainfall.  I  should  say  that  this  would 
be  the  only  question  about  water. 

Leaving  the  Milk  River  Valley,  we  began  to  curve 
southward,  passing  Fort  Assiniboin  on  our  right.  In 
this  region  and  beyond  at  Fort  Benton  great  herds  of 
cattle  are  grazed  by  Government  contractors,  who 
supply  the  posts  with  beef.  At  the  Big  Sandy  Sta- 
tion they  were  shipping  cattle  eastward.  We  crossed 
the  Marias  River  (originally  named  Maria's  River),  a 
stream  that  had  the  respectful  attention  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke,  and  the  Teton,  a  wilfully  erratic  watercourse 
in  a  narrow  valley,  which  caused  the  railway  con- 
structors a  good  deal  of  trouble.  We  looked  down, 
in  passing,  on  Fort  Benton,  nestled  in  a  bend  of  the 
Missouri ;  a  smart  town,  with  a  daily  newspaper,  an 
old  trading  station.  Shortly  after  leaving  Assiniboin 
we  saw  on  our  left  the  Bear  Paw  Mountains  and  the 
noble  Highwood  Mountains,  fine  peaks,  snow-dusted, 
about  thirty  miles  from  us,  and  adjoining  them  the 
Belt  Mountains.  Between  them  is  a  shapely  little 
pyramid  called  the  Wolf  Butte.  Far  to  our  right 
were  the  Sweet  Grass  Hills,  on  the  Canada  line,  where 
gold-miners  are  at  work.  I  have  noted  of  all  this 
country  that  it  is  agriculturally  fine.  After  Fort  Ben- 
ton we  had  glimpses  of  the  Rockies,  off  to  the  right 
(we  had  seen  before  the  Little  Rockies  in  the  south, 
towards  Yellowstone  Park) ;  then  the  Bird-tail  Divide 
came  in  sight,  and  the  mathematically  Square  Butte, 
sometimes  called  Fort  Montana. 

At  noon,  November  20th,  we  reached  Groat  Falls, 
where  the  Sun  River,  coming  in  from  the  west,  joins 
10 


a 


I ' 


i\ . 


146 


South  and  West. 


■.'),' 


.?*»!' 


the  Missouri.  The  railway  crosses  the  Sun  River, 
and  runs  on  up  the  left  bank  of  the  Missouri.  Great 
Falls,  which  lies  in  a  bend  of  the  Missouri  on  the  east 
side,  was  not  then,  but  soon  will  be,  connected  with 
the  line  by  a  railway  bridge.  I  wish  I  could  convey 
to  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  beauty  of  the  view  as 
we  came  out  upon  the  Sun  River  Valley,  or  the  feel- 
ing of  exhilaration  and  elevation  we  experienced.  I 
had  come  to  no  place  before  that  did  not  seem  remote, 
far  from  home,  lonesome.  Here  the  aspect  was  friend- 
ly, livable,  almost  home-like.  We  seemed  to  have 
come  out,  after  a  long  journey,  to  a  place  where  one 
might  be  content  to  stay  for  some  time — to  a  far  but 
fair  country,  on  top  of  the  world,  as  it  were.  Not 
that  the  elevation  is  great — only  about  3000  feet 
above  the  sea — nor  the  horizon  illimitable,  as  on  the 
great  plains ;  its  spaciousness  is  brought  within  hu- 
man sympathy  by  guardian  hills  and  distant  mountain 


ranges. 


A  more  sweet,  smiling  picture  than  the  Sun  River 
Valley  the  traveller  may  go  far  to  see.  With  an  av- 
erage breadth  of  not  over  two  and  a  half  to  five  miles, 
level,  richly  grassed,  flanked  by  elevations  that  swell 
up  to  plateaus,  through  the  valley  the  Sun  River, 
clear,  full  to  the  grassy  banks,  comes  down  like  a  rib- 
bon of  silver,  perhaps  800  feet  broad  before  its  junc- 
tion. Across  the  far  end  of  it,  seventy-five  miles  dis- 
tant, but  seemingly  not  more  than  twenty,  run  the 
silver  serrated  peaks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  snow- 
clad  and  sparkling  in  the  sun.  At  distances  of  twelve 
and  fifty  miles  up  the  valley  have  been  for  years  pros- 
perous settlements,  with  school-houses  and  churches, 
hitherto  cut  off  from  the  world. 


A  Fa/r  and  Fair  Country. 


147 


The  whole  rolling,  arable,  though  treeless  country 
in  view  is  beautiful,  and  the  far  prospects  are  magnifi- 
cent. I  suppose  that  something  of  the  homelikeness  of 
the  region  is  due  to  the  presence  of  the  great  Missouri 
River  (a  connection  with  the  world  we  know),  which 
is  here  a  rapid,  clear  stream,  in  permanent  rock-laid 
banks.  At  the  town  a  dam  has  been  thrown  across 
it,  and  the  width  above  the  dam,  where  we  crossed  it, 
is  about  1800  feet.  The  day  was  fair  and  not  cold, 
but  a  gale  of  wind  from  the  south-west  blew  with  such 
violence  that  the  ferry-boat  was  unmanageable,  and 
we  went  over  in  little  skiffs,  much  tossed  about  by 
the  white-capped  waves. 

In  June,  1886,  there  was  not  a  Louse  within  twelve 
miles  of  this  place.  The  country  is  now  taken  up 
and  dotted  with  claim  shanties,  and  Great  Falls  is  a 
town  of  over  1 000  inhabitants,  regularly  laid  out,  with 
streets  indeed  extending  far  on  to  the  prairie,  a  hand- 
some and  commodious  hotel,  several  brick  buildings, 
and  new  houses  going  up  in  all  directions.  Central 
lots,  fifty  feet  by  two  hundred  and  fifty,  are  said  to 
sell  for  $5000,  and  I  was  offered  a  corner  lot  on  Tenth 
Street,  away  out  on  the  prairie,  for  $1500,  including 
the  corner  stake. 

It  is  difticult  to  write  of  this  country  without  seem- 
ing exaggeration,  and  the  habitual  frontier  boastful- 
ness  makes  the  acquisition  of  bottom  facts  difficult. 
It  is  plain  to  be  seen  that  it  is  a  good  grazing 
country,  and  the  experimental  fields  of  wheat  near  the 
town  show  that  it  is  equally  well  adapted  to  wheat- 
raising.  The  vegetables  grown  there  are  enormous 
and  solid,  especially  potatoes  and  turnips ;  I  have  the 
outline  of  a  turnip  which  measured  seventeen  inches 


1 

1 

. 

1 

1 

1 

L 

' 

1 

J 

1 

ili 

; 

1    s 

(!l  V. 


148 


South  and  West 


\i: 


♦t'.  •  I 


';)(;•))' 


M 


across,  seven  inches  deep,  and  weighed  twenty-four 
pounds.  The  region  is  underlaid  by  bituminous  coal, 
good  coking  quality,  and  extensive  mines  are  opening 
in  the  neighborhood.  I  have  no  doubt  from  what  I 
saw  and  heard  that  iron  of  good  quality  (hematite)  is 
abundant.  It  goes  without  saying  that  the  Montana 
mountains  are  full  of  other  minerals.  The  present 
advantage  of  Great  Falls  is  in  the  possession  of  un- 
limited water-power  in  the  Missouri  River. 

As  to  rainfall  and  climate?  The  grass  shows  no 
lack  of  rain,  and  the  wheat  was  raised  in  1887  without 
irrigation.  But  irrigation  from  the  Missouri  and 
Sun  rivers  is  easy,  if  needed.  The  tht  ^nometer 
shows  a  more  temperate  and  less  rigorous  climate 
than  Minnesota  and  north  Dakota.  Unless  everybody 
fibs,  the  winters  are  less  severe,  and  stock  ranges  and 
fattens  all  winter.  Less  snow  falls  here  than  farther 
east  and  south,  and  that  which  falls  does  not  usually 
remain  long.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  mercury 
occasionally  goes  very  low,  but  that  every  few  days  a 
warm  Pacific  wind  from  the  south-west,  the  "  Chinook," 
blows  a  gale,  which  instantly  raises  the  temperature, 
and  sweeps  off  the  snow  in  twenty-four  hours.  I  was 
told  that  ice  rarely  gets  more  than  ten  inches  thick, 
and  that  ploughing  can  be  done  as  late  as  the  20th  of 
December,  and  recommenced  from  the  Ist  to  the  16th 
of  March.  I  did  not  stay  long  enough  to  verify  these 
statements.  There  had  been  a  slight  fall  of  snow  in 
October,  which  speedily  disappeared.  November  20th 
was  pleasant,  with  a  strong  Chinook  wind.  November 
21st  there  was  a  driving  snow-storm. 

The  region  is  attractive  to  the  sight-seer.  I  can 
speak  of  only  two  things,  the  Springs  and  the  Falls. 


Vi\ 


A  Far  and  Fair  Country. 


149 


There  is  a  series  of  rapids  and  falls,  for  twelve  miles 
below  the  town  ;  and  the  river  drops  down  rapidly 
into  a  canon  which  is  in  some  places  nearly  200  feet 
deep.  The  first  fall  is  twenty-six  feet  high.  The 
most  beautiful  is  the  Rainbow  Fall,  six  miles  from 
town.  This  cataract,  in  a  wild,  deep  gorge,  has  a 
width  of  1400  feet,  nearly  as  straight  across  as  an  ar- 
tificial dam,  with  a  perpendicular  plunge  of  fifty  feet. 
What  makes  it  impressive  is  the  immense  volume  of 
water.  Dashed  upon  the  rocks  below,  it  sends  up 
clouds  of  spray,  which  the  sun  tinges  with  prismatic 
colors  the  whole  breadth  of  the  magnificent  fall. 
Standing  half-way  down  the  precipice  another  consid- 
erable and  regular  fall  is  seen  above,  while  below  are 
rapids  and  falls  again  at  the  bend,  and  beyond,  great 
reaches  of  tumultuous  river  in  the  caiion.  It  is  alto- 
gether a  wild  and  splendid  spectacle.  Six  miles  be- 
low, the  river  takes  a  continuous  though  not  perpen- 
dicular plunge  of  ninety-six  feet. 

One  of  the  most  exquisitely  beautiful  natural  ob- 
jects I  know  is  the  Spring,  a  mile  above  Rainbow  Fall. 
Out  of  a  rocky  ledge,  sloping  up  some  ten  feet  above 
the  river,  burst  several  springs  of  absolutely  crystal 
water,  powerfully  bubbling  up  like  small  geysers,  and 
together  forming  instantly  a  splendid  stream,  which 
falls  into  the  Missouri.  So  perfectly  transparent  is 
the  water  that  the  springs  seem  to  have  a  depth  of 
only  fifteen  inches ;  they  are  fifteen  feet  deep.  In 
them  grow  flat -leaved  plants  of  vivid  green,  shades 
from  lightest  to  deepest  emerald,  and  when  the  sun- 
light strikes  into  their  depths  the  effect  is  exquisitely 
beautiful.  Mingled  with  the  emerald  are  maroon  col- 
ors that  heighten  the  effect.    The  vigor  of  the  out- 


Vi 


I 


JfS 


u 


150 


South  and  West. 


burst,  the  volume  of  water,  the  transparency,  the  play 
of  sunlight  on  the  lovely  colors,  give  one  a  positively 
new  sensation. 

I  have  left  no  room  to  speak  of  the  road  of  ninety- 
eight  miles  through  the  caiion  of  the  Missouri  and  the 
canon  of  the  Prickly-Pear  to  Helena — about  1400  feet 
higher  than  Great  Falls.  It  is  a  marvellously  pict- 
uresque road,  following  the  mighty  river,  winding 
through  crags  and  precipices  of  trap-rock  set  on  end 
in  fantastic  array,  .and  wild  mountain  scenery.  On 
the  route  are  many  pleasant  places,  openings  of  fine 
valleys,  thriving  ranches,  considerable  stock  and  oats, 
much  land  ploughed  and  cultivated.  The  valley  broad- 
ens out  before  we  reach  Helena  and  enter  Last  Chance 
Gulch,  now  the  main  street  of  the  city,  out  of  which 
millions  of  gold  have  been  taken. 

At  Helena  we  reach  familiar  ground.  The  21st 
was  a  jubilee  day  for  the  city  and  the  whole  Terri- 
tory. Cannon,  bells,  whistles,  welcomed  the  train  and 
the  man,  and  fifteen  thousand  people  hurrahed;  the 
town  was  gayly  decorated;  there  was  a  long  proces- 
sion, speeches  and  music  in  the  Opera-house  in  the  af- 
ternoon, and  fireworks,  illumination,  and  banquet  in 
the  evening.  The  reason  of  the  boundless  enthusiasm 
of  Helena  was  in  the  fact  that  the  day  gavt  it  a  new 
competing  line  to  the  East,  and  opened  up  the  coal, 
iron,  and  wheat  fields  of  north  Montana. 


VIII. 

ECONOMIC   AND    SOCIAL   TOPICS. 
SOTA  AND   WISCONSIN. 


MINNE- 


A  VISITOR  at  a  club  in  Chicago  was  pointed  out  a 
table  at  which  usually  lunched  a  hundred  and  fifty 
millions  of  dollars !  This  impressive  statement  was 
as  significant  in  its  way  as  the  list  of  the  men,  in  the 
days  of  Emerson,  Agassiz,  and  Longfellow,  who  dined 
together  as  the  Saturday  Club  in  Boston.  We  can- 
not, however,  generalize  from  this  that  the  only  thing 
considered  in  the  North-west  is  money,  and  that  the 
only  thing  held  in  esteem  in  Boston  is  intellect. 

The  chief  concerns  in  the  North-west  are  material, 
and  the  making  of  money,  sometimes  termed  the  "de- 
velopment of  resources,"  is  of  the  first  importance. 
In  Minneapolis  and  St.  Paul,  social  position  is  more 
determined  by  money  than  it  is  in  most  Eastern  cities, 
and  this  makes  social  life  more  democratic,  so  far  as 
traditions  and  family  are  concerned.  I  desire  not  to 
overstate  this,  for  money  is  potent  everywhere;  but  I 
should  say  that  a  person  not  devoted  to  business,  or 
not  succeeding  in  it,  but  interested  rather  in  intel- 
lectual pursuits — study,  research,  art  (not  decorative), 
education,  and  the  like — would  find  less  sympathy 
there  than  in  Eastern  cities  of  the  same  size  and  less 
consideration.  Indeed,  I  was  told,  more  than  once, 
that  the  spirit  of  plutocracy  is  so  strong  in  these  cities 


iiiti«fc     I 


152 


South  and  West. 


'  ^A 


■  \  I 


'^\^. 


\iA 


I'M 


m 


as  to  make  a  very  disagreeable  atmosphere  for  people 
who  value  the  higher  things  in  life  more  than  money 
and  what  money  only  will  procure,  and  display  which 
is  always  more  or  less  vulgar.  Hut  it  is  necessary  to 
get  closer  to  tiie  facts  than  this  statement. 

The  materialistic  spirit  is  very  strong  in  the  West; 
of  necessity  it  is,  in  the  struggle  for  existence  and  po- 
sition going  on  there,  and  in  the  unprecedented  oppor- 
tunities for  making  fortunes.  And  hence  arises  a  pre- 
vailing notion  that  any  education  is  of  little  value  that 
does  not  hear  directly  upon  material  success.  I  should 
say  that  the  professions,  including  divinity  and  the 
work  of  the  scholar  and  the  man  of  letters,  do  not 
have  the  weight  there  that  they  do  in  some  other 
places.  The  professional  man,  either  in  the  college 
or  the  pulpit,  is  expected  to  look  alive  and  keep  up 
with  the  procession.  Tradition  is  weak;  it  is  no  ob- 
jection to  a  thing  that  it  is  new,  and  in  the  general 
strain  "  sensations  "  are  welcome.  The  general  motto 
is,  "  Be  alive  ;  be  practical."  Naturally,  also,  wealth 
recently  come  by  desires  to  assert  itself  a  little  in  dis- 
play, in  ostentatious  houses,  luxurious  living,  dress, 
jewellery,  even  to  the  frank  delight  in  the  diamond 
shirt-stud. 

But  we  are  writing  of  Americans,  and  the  Ameri- 
can" are  the  quickest  people  in  the  world  to  adapt 
themselves  to  new  situations.  The  Western  people 
travel  much,  at  home  and  abroad,  and  they  do  not  re- 
quire a  very  long  experience  to  know  what  is  in  bad 
taste.  They  are  as  quick  as  anybody — I  believe  they 
gave  us  the  phrase — to  "  catch  on  "  to  quietness  and  a 
low  tone.  Indeed,  I  don't  know  but  they  would  boast 
that  if  it  is  a  question  of  subdued  style,  they  can  beat 


EconomiG  and  Social  Toj>ic8. 


153 


the  world.  Tlic  revolution  which  has  gone  all  over 
the  country  since  tlio  Exposition  of  1870  in  house-fur- 
nishing  and  decoration  i.s  quite  as  apparent  in  the  West 
as  in  the  East.  The  West  has  not  suflFered  more  than 
the  East  from  eccentricities  of  architecture  in  the  past 
twenty  years.  Violations  of  good  taste  are  pretty  well 
distributed,  but  of  new  houses  the  proportion  of  hand- 
some, solid,  good  structures  is  as  large  in  the  Wewt  as 
in  the  East,  and  in  the  cities  I  think  the  West  has  the 
advantage  in  variety.  It  must  bo  frankly  said  that  if 
the  Easterner  is  surprised  at  the  size,  cost,  and  palatial 
character  of  many  of  their  residences,  he  is  not  less 
surprised  by  the  refinement  and  good  taste  of  their  in- 
teriors. There  are  cases  where  money  is  too  evident, 
where  the  splendor  has  been  ordered,  but  there  are 
plenty  of  other  cases  where  individual  taste  is  appar- 
ent, and  love  of  harmony  and  beauty.  What  I  am 
trying  to  say  is  that  the  East  undervalues  the  real  re- 
finement of  living  going  along  with  the  admitted  cost 
and  luxury  in  the  Wcst.  The  art  of  dining  is  said  to 
bo  a  test  of  civilization — on  a  certain  plane.  Well, 
dining,  in  good  houses  (I  believe  that  is  the  phrase), 
is  much  the  same  East  and  West  as  to  fippointments, 
service,  cuisine,  and  talk,  with  a  trifle  more  freedom 
and  sense  of  newness  in  the  West.  No  doubt  there  is 
a  tlifference  in  tone,  appreciable  but  not  easy  to  define. 
It  relates  less  to  the  things  than  the  way  the  things 
are  considered.  Where  a  family  has  had  "  things"  for 
two  or  three  generations  they  are  less  an  object  than 
an  um'egarded  matter  of  course  ;  where  things  and  a 
mann'  '"  of  living  are  newly  acquired,  they  have  more 
impo'  lice  in  themselves.  An  old  community,  if  it  is 
rear       ivilized  (I  mean  a  state  in  which  intellectual 


•I 

I 


f 

1 

154 


South  and  West. 


vM 


concerns  are  paramount),  values  less  and  less,  as  an 
end,  merely  material  refinement.  The  tendency  all 
over  the  United  States  is  for  wealth  to  run  into  vul- 
garity. 

In  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis  one  thing  notable  is 
the  cordial  hospitality,  another  is  the  public  spirit, 
and  another  is  the  intense  devotion  to  business,  the 
forecast  and  alertness  in  new  enterprises.  Where 
society  is  fluid  and  on  the  move,  it  seems  compara- 
tively easy  to  interest  the  citizens  in  any  scheme  for 
the  public  good.  The  public  spirit  of  those  cities  is 
admirable.  One  notices  also  an  uncommon  power  of 
organization,  of  devices  for  saving  time.  An  illustra- 
tion of  this  is  the  immense  railway  transfer  ground 
here.  Midway  between  the  cities  is  a  mile  square  of 
land  where  all  the  great  railway  lines  meet,  and  by 
means  of  communicating  tracks  easily  and  cheaply 
exchange  freight  cars,  immensely  increasing  the  facil- 
ity and  lessening  the  cost  of  transportation.  Anoth- 
er illustration  of  system  is  the  State  office  of  Public 
Examiner,  an  office  peculiar  to  Minnesota,  an  office  su- 
pervising banks,  public  institutions,  and  county  treas- 
uries, by  means  of  which  a  uniform  system  of  account- 
ing is  enforced  for  all  public  funds,  and  safety  is 
insured. 

There  is  a  large  furniture  and  furnishing  store  in 
Minneapolis,  well  sustained  by  the  public,  which  gives 
one  a  new  idea  of  the  taste  of  the  North-west.  A 
community  that  buys  furniture  so  elegant  and  chaste 
in  design,  and  stuffs  and  decorations  so  ajsthetically 
good,  as  this  shop  offers  it,  is  certainly  not  deficient 
either  in  material  refinement  or  the  means  to  gratify 
the  love  of  It. 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


155 


What  is  there  besides  this  tremendous  energy,  very 
material  prosperity,  and  undeniable  refinement  in  liv- 
ing? I  do  not  know  that  the  excellently  managed 
public-school  system  offers  anything  peculiar  for  com- 
ment. But  the  High-school  in  St.  Paul  is  worth  a 
visit.  So  far  as  I  could  judge,  the  method  of  teach- 
ing is  admirable,  and  produces  good  results.  It  has 
no  rules,  nor  any  espionage.  Scholars  are  put  upon 
their  honor.  One  object  of  education  being  charac- 
ter, it  is  well  to  have  good  behavior  consist,  not  in 
conformity  to  artificial  laws  existing  only  in  school, 
but  to  principles  of  good  conduct  that  should  prevail 
everywhere.  There  is  system  here,  but  the  conduct 
expected  is  that  of  well-bred  boys  and  girls  anywhere. 
The  plan  works  well,  and  there  are  very  few  cases  of 
discipline.  A  manual  training  school  is  attached — a 
notion  growing  in  favor  in  the  West,  and  practised  in 
a  scientific  and  truly  educational  spirit.  Attendance 
is  not  compulsory,  but  a  considerable  proportion  of 
the  pupils,  boys  and  girls,  spend  a  certain  number  of 
hours  each  week  in  the  workshops,  learning  the  use  of 
tools,  and  making  simple  objects  to  an  accurate  scale 
from  drawings  on  the  blackboard.  The  design  is 
not  at  all  to  teach  a  trade.  The  object  is  strictly 
educational,  not  simply  to  give  manual  facility  and 
knowledge  in  the  use  of  tools,  but  to  teach  accuracy, 
the  mental  training  that  there  is  in  working  out  a  def- 
inite, specific  purpose. 

The  State  University  is  still  in  a  formative  condi- 
tion, and  has  attached  to  it  a  preparatory  school.  Its 
first  class  graduated  only  in  1872.  It  sends  out  on 
an  average  about  twenty  graduates  a  year  in  the  var 
rious  departments,  science,  literature,  mechanic  arts. 


W 


166 


South  and  West. 


i 


and  agriculture.  The  banc  of  a  State  university  is 
politics,  and  in  the  West  the  hand  of  the  Granger 
is  on  the  college,  endeavoring  to  make  it "  practical." 
Probably  this  modern  idea  of  education  will  have  to 
run  its  course,  and  so  long  as  it  is  running  its  course 
the  Eastern  colleges  which  adhere  to  the  idea  of  in- 
tellectual discipline  will  attract  the  young  men  who 
value  a  liberal  rather  than  a  material  education.  The 
State  University  of  Minnesota  is  thriving  in  the  en- 
largement of  its  facilities.  About  one-third  of  its 
scholars  are  women,  but  I  notice  that  in  the  last  cat- 
alogue, in  the  Senior  Class  of  twenty-six  there  is  only 
one  woman.  There  are  two  independent  institutions 
also  that  should  be  mentioned,  both  within  the  limits 
of  St.  Paul,  the  Hamline  University,  under  Methodist 
auspices,  and  the  McAllister  College,  under  Presby- 
terian. I  did  not  visit  the  former,  but  the  latter,  at 
least,  though  just  beginning,  has  the  idea  of  a  clas- 
sical education  foremost,  and  does  not  adopt  co-educa- 
tion. Its  library  is  well  begun  by  the  gift  of  a  mis- 
cellaneous collection,  containing  many  rare  and  old 
books,  by  the  Rev.  E.  D.  Neill,  the  well-known  anti- 
quarian, who  has  done  so  much  to  illuminate  the  colo- 
nial history  of  Virginia  and  Maryland.  In  the  State 
Historical  Society,  which  has  rooms  in  the  Capitol  in 
St.  Paul,  a  vigorous  and  well-managed  society,  is  a 
valuable  collection  of  books  illustrating  the  history 
of  the  North-west.  The  visitor  will  notice  in  St.  Paul 
quite  as  much  taste  for  reading  among  business  men 
as  exists  elsewhere,  a  growing  fancy  for  rare  books, 
and  find  some  private  collect'ons  of  interest.  Though 
music  and  art  cannot  be  said  to  be  generally  culti- 
vated, there  are  in  private  circles  musical  enthusiasm 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


157 


and  musical  ability,  and  many  of  the  best  examples 
of  modern  painting  are  to  be  found  in  private  bouses. 
Indeed,  there  is  one  gallery  in  which  is  a  collection 
of  pictures  by  foreign  artists  that  would  be  notable 
in  any  city.  Tliese  things  are  mentioned  as  indica- 
tions of  a  liberalizing  use  of  wealth. 

Wisconsin  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  progressive, 
but  one  of  the  most  enlightened,  States  in  the  Union. 
Physically  it  is  an  agreeable  and  beautiful  State,  agri- 
culturally it  is  rich,  in  the  southern  and  central  por- 
tions at  least,  and  it  is  overlaid  with  a  perfect  net- 
work of  railways.  All  this  is  well  known.  I  wish  to 
speak  of  certain  other  things  which  give  it  distinc- 
tion. I  mean  the  prevailing  spirit  in  education  and 
in  social  -  economic  problems.  In  some  respects  it 
leads  all  the  other  States. 

There  seem  to  be  two  elements  in  the  State  con- 
tending for  the  mastery,  one  the  New  England,  but 
emancipated  from  tradition,  the  other  the  foreign, 
with  ideas  of  liberty  not  of  New  England  origin. 
Neither  is  afraid  of  new  ideas  nor  of  trying  social 
experiments.  Co-education  seems  to  be  everywhere 
accepted  without  question,  as  if  it  were  already  de- 
monstrated that  the  mingling  of  the  sexes  in  the 
higher  education  will  produce  the  sort  of  men  and 
women  most  desirable  in  the  highest  civilization. 
The  succe'is  of  women  in  the  higher  schools,  the  ca- 
pacity shciwn  by  women  in  the  management  of  pub- 
lic institutions  and  in  reforms  and  charities,  have 
perhaps  something  to  do  with  the  favor  to  woman 
sutfrage.  It  may  be  that,  if  women  vote  there  in 
general  elections  as  well  as  school  matters,  on  the 


i 


J 


THE  PROPERTY  OF 

SGABBOBO  HE0IAHIG8 

INSTITUTE. 


158 


South  and  West 


ground  that  every  public  office  "  relates  to  educa- 
tion," Prohibition  will  be  agitated  as  it  is  in  most 
other  States,  but  at  present  the  lager-bier  interest  is 
too  strong  to  give  Prohibition  much  chance.  The 
capital  invested  in  the  manufacture  of  beer  makes 
this  interest  a  political  element  of  great  importance. 

Milwaukee  and  Madison  may  be  taken  to  represent 
fairly  the  civilization  of  Wisconsin.  Milwaukee,  hav- 
ing a  population  of  about  175,000,  is  a  beautiful  city, 
with  some  characteristics  peculiar  to  itself,  having  the 
settled  air  of  being  much  older  than  it  is,  a  place  ac- 
customed to  money  and  considerable  elegance  of  liv- 
ing. The  situation  on  the  lake  is  fine,  the  high  curv- 
ing bluffs  offering  most  attractive  sites  for  residences, 
and  the  rolling  country  about  having  a  quiet  beauty. 
Grand  Avenue,  an  extension  of  the  main  business  thor- 
oughfare of  the  city,  runs  out  into  the  country  some 
two  miles,  broad,  with  a  solid  road,  a  stately  avenue, 
lined  with  fine  dwellings,  many  of  them  palaces  in  size 
and  elegant  in  design.  Fashion  seems  to  hesitate  be- 
tween the  east  side  and  the  west  side,  but  the  east  or 
lake  side  seems  to  have  the  advantage  in  situation, 
certainly  in  views,  and  contains  a  greater  proportion 
of  the  American  population  than  the  other.  Indeed, 
it  is  not  easy  to  recall  a  quarter  of  any  busy  city 
which  combines  more  comfort,  evidences  of  wealth 
and  taste  and  refinement,  and  a  certain  domestic  char- 
acter, than  this  portion  of  the  tc  n  on  the  bluffs,  Pros- 
pect Avenue  and  the  adjacent  streets.  With  the  many 
costly  and  elegant  houses  there  is  here  and  there  one 
rather  fantastic,  but  the  whole  effect  is  pleasing,  and 
the  traveller  feels  no  hesitation  in  deciding  that  this 
would  be  an  agreeable  place  to  live.    From  the  ave- 


n 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


159 


nue  the  lake  prospect  is  wonderfully  attractive — the 
beauty  of  Lake  Michigan  in  changing  color  and  varie- 
ty of  lights  in  sun  and  storm  cannot  be  too  much  in- 
sisted on — and  this  is  especially  true  of  the  noble  Es- 
planade, where  stands  the  bronze  statue  (a  gift  of  two 
citizens)  of  Solomon  Juneau,  the  first  settler  of  Mil- 
waukee in  1818.  It  is  a  very  satisfactory  figure,  and 
placed  where  it  is,  it  gives  a  sort  of  foreign  distinc- 
tion to  the  open  place  which  the  city  has  wisely  left 
for  public  use.  In  this  part  of  the  town  is  the  house 
of  the  Milwaukee  Club,  a  good  building,  one  of  the 
most  tasteful  internally,  and  one  of  the  best  appointed, 
best  arranged,  and  comfortable  club-houses  in  the  coun- 
try. Near  this  is  the  new  Art  Museum  (also  the  gift 
of  a  private  citizen),  a  building  greatly  to  be  com- 
mended for  its  excellent  proportions,  simplicity,  and 
chasteness  of  style,  and  adaptability  to  its  purpose. 
It  is  a  style  that  will  last,  to  please  the  eye,  and  be 
more  and  more  appreciated  as  the  taste  of  the  com- 
munity becomes  more  and  more  refined. 

In  this  quarter  are  many  of  the  churches,  of  the 
average  sort,  but  none  calling  for  special  mention 
except  St.  Paul's,  which  is  noble  in  proportions  and 
rich  in  color,  and  contains  several  notable  windows 
of  stained  glass,  one  of  them  occupying  the  entire 
end  of  one  transept,  the  largest,  I  believe,  in  the 
country.  It  is  a  copy  of  Dore's  painting  of  Christ 
6n  the  way  to  the  Crucifixion,  an  illuminated  street 
scene,  with  superb  architecture  of  marble  and  por- 
phyry, and  crowded  with  hundreds  of  figures  in  col- 
ors of  Oriental  splendor.  The  colors  are  rich  and 
harmonious,  but  it  is  very  brilliant,  flashing  in  the 
sunlight  with  magnificent  effect,  and  I  am  not  sure 


it 


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1 

f. 

r 

iai 

|v-  ■-. 

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1 

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k 

160 


South  and  West 


m 


\mv, 


but  it  would  attract  the  humble  sinners  of  Milwaukee 
from  a  contemplation  of  their  little  faults  which  they 
go  to  church  to  confess. 

The  city  does  not  neglect  education,  as  the  many 
thriving  public  schools  testify.  It  has  a  public  circu- 
lating library  of  42,000  volumes,  sustained  at  an  ex- 
pense of  $22,000  a  year  by  a  tax;  is  free,  and  well  pat- 
ronized. There  are  good  private  collections  of  books 
also,  one  that  I  saw  large  and  worthy  to  be  called  a 
library,  especially  strong  in  classic  English  literature. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  industry  of  the  city,  certainly 
the  most  conspicuous,  is  brewing.  I  do  not  say  that 
the  city  is  in  the  hands  of  the  brewers,  but  with  their 
vast  establishments  they  wield  great  power.  One  of 
them,  about  the  largest  in  the  country,  and  said  to 
equal  in  its  capacity  any  in  Europe,  has  in  one  group 
seven  enormous  buildings,  and  is  impressive  by  its  ex- 
tent and  orderly  management,  as  well  as  by  the  rivers 
of  amber  fluid  which  it  pours  out  for  this  thirsty  coun- 
try. Milwaukee,  with  its  large  German  element — two- 
thirds  of  the  population,  most  of  whom  are  freethink- 
ers— has  no  Sunday  except  in  a  holiday  sense;  the 
theatres  are  all  open,  and  the  pleasure-gardens,  which 
are  extensive,  are  crowded  with  merrymakers  in  the 
season.  It  is,  in  short,  the  Continental  fashion,  and 
while  the  churches  and  church-goers  are  like  churches 
and  church-goers  everywhere,  there  is  an  air  of  gen- 
eral Continental  freedom. 

The  general  impression  of  Milwaukee  is  that  it  is  a 
city  of  much  wealth  and  a  great  deal  of  comfort,  with 
a  settled,  almost  conservative  feeling,  like  an  Eastern 
city,  and  charming,  cultivated  social  life,  with  the  grace 
and  beauty  that  are  common  in  American  society  any- 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


IGl 


where.  I  think  the  men  generally  would  be  called 
well-looking,  robust,  of  the  quiet,  assured  manner  of 
an  old  community.  The  women  seen  on  the  street 
and  in  the  shops  are  of  good  physique  and  good  col- 
or and  average  good  looks,  without  anything  startling 
in  the  way  of  beauty  or  elegance.  I  speak  of  the  gen- 
eral aspect  of  the  town,  and  I  mention  the  well-to-do 
physical  condition  because  it  contradicts  the  English 
prophecy  of  a  physical  decadence  in  the  West,  owing 
to  the  stimulating  climate  and  the  restless  pursuit  of 
wealth.  On  the  train  to  Madison  (the  line  runs  through 
a  beautiful  country)  one  might  have  fancied  that  he 
was  on  a  local  New  England  train:  the  same  plain, 
good  sort  of  people,  and  in  abundance  the  well-look- 
ing, domestic  sort  of  young  women. 

Madison  is  a  great  contrast  to  Milwaukee.  Although 
it  is  the  political  and  educational  centre,  has  the  Capi- 
tol and  the  State  University,  and  a  population  of  about 
15,000,  it  is  like  a  large  village,  with  the  village  habits 
and  friendliness.  On  elevated,  hilly  ground,  between 
two  charming  lakes,  it  has  an  almost  unrivalled  situa- 
tion, and  is  likely  to  possess,  in  the  progress  of  years 
and  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  the  picturesqueness 
and  beauty  that  travellers  ascribe  to  Stockholm.  With 
the  hills  of  the  town,  the  gracefully  curving  shores  of 
the  lakes  and  their  pointed  bays,  the  gentle  elevations 
beyond  the  lakes,  and  the  capacity  of  these  two  bodies 
of  water  as  pleasure  resorts,  with  elegant  music  pavil- 
ions and  fleets  of  boats  for  the  sail  and  the  oar — whv 
do  we  not  take  a  hint  from  the  painted  Venetian  sail? 
— there  is  no  limit  to  what  may  be  expected  in  the  way 
of  refined  beauty  of  Madison  in  the  summer,  if  it  re- 
mains a  city  of  education  and  of  laws,  and  does  not 
11 


162 


South  cmd  West. 


get  up  a  "  boom,"  and  set  up  factories,  and  blacken 
all  the  landscape  with  coal  smoke ! 

The  centre  of  the  town  is  a  big  square,  pleasantly 
tree-planted,  so  large  that  the  facing  rows  of  shops 
and  houses  have  a  remote  and  dwarfed  appearance, 
and  in  the  middle  of  it  is  the  great  pillared  State- 
house,  American  style.  The  town  itself  is  one  of 
unpretentious,  comfortable  houses,  some  of  tliom  with 
elegant  interiors,  having  plenty  of  books  and  tlie  spoils 
of  foreign  travel.  In  one  of  them,  the  old-fashioned 
but  entirely  charming  msinsion  of  Governor  Fairchild, 
I  cannot  refrain  from  saying,  is  a  collection  which,  so 
far  as  I  knoAv,  is  unique  in  the  world — a  collection  to 
which  the  helmet  of  Don  Quixote  gives  a  certain  fla- 
vor; it  is  of  barbers'  basins,  of  all  ages  and  countries. 

Wisconsin  is  working  out  its  educational  ideas  on 
an  intelligent  system,  and  one  that  may  be  expected 
to  demonstrate  the  full  value  of  the  popular  method 
— I  mean  a  more  intimate  connection  of  the  univer- 
sity with  the  life  of  the  people  than  exists  elsewhere. 
What  effect  this  will  have  upon  the  higher  education 
in  the  ultimate  civilization  of  the  State  is  a  question 
of  serious  and  curious  interest.  Unless  the  experience 
of  the  ages  is  misleading,  the  tendency  of  the  "  prac- 
tical" in  all  education  is  a  downward  and  material 
one,  and  the  highest  civilization  must  continue  to  de- 
pend upon  a  pure  scholarship,  and  upon  what  are 
called  abstract  ideas.  Even  so  practical  a  man  as 
Socrates  found  the  natural  sciences  inadequate  to  the 
inner  needs  of  the  soul.  "  I  thought,"  he  says,  "  as  I 
have  tailed  in  the  contemplation  of  true  existence  (by 
means  of  the  sciences),  I  ought  to  be  careful  that  I 
did  not  lose  the  eye  of  the  soul,  as  people  may  injure 


Economic  and  Social  Toj>ic8. 


163 


their  bodily  eye  by  gazing  on  the  sun  during  an  eclipse. 
. . .  That  occurred  to  me,  and  I  was  afraid  that  my  soul 
might  be  blinded  altogether  if  I  looked  at  things  with 
my  eyes,  or  tried  by  the  help  of  the  senses  to  appre- 
hend them.  And  I  thought  I  had  better  have  re- 
course to  ideas,  and  seek  in  them  the  truth  of  exist- 
ence." The  intimate  union  of  the  university  with  the 
life  of  the  people  is  a  most  desirable  object,  if  the  uni- 
versity does  not  descend  and  lose  its  high  character  in 
the  process. 

The  graded  school  system  of  the  State  is  vigorous, 
all  working  up  to  the  University.  This  is  a  State  in- 
stitution, and  the  State  is  fairly  liberal  to  it,  so  far  as 
practical  education  is  concerned.  It  has  a  magnificent 
new  Science  bu'  ding,  and  will  have  excellent  shops 
and  machinery  for  the  sciences  (especially  the  applied) 
and  the  mechanic  arts.  The  system  is  elective.  A 
small  per  cent,  of  the  students  take  Greek,  a  larger 
number  Latin,  French,  and  German,  but  the  Univer- 
sity is  largely  devoted  to  science.  In  all  the  depart- 
ments, including  law,  there  are  about  six  hundred  stu- 
dents, of  whom  above  one  hundred  are  girls.  There 
seems  to  be  no  doubt  about  co-education  as  a  prac- 
tical matter  in  the  conduct  of  the  college,  and  as  a 
desirable  thing  for  women.  The  girls  are  good  stu- 
dents, and  usually  take  more  than  half  the  highest 
honors  on  the  marking  scale.  Notwithstanding  the 
testimony  of  the  marks,  however,  the  boys  say  that 
the  girls  don't  "know"  as  much  as  they  do  about 
things  generally,  and  they  (the  boys)  have  no  doubt 
of  their  ability  to  pass  the  girls  either  in  scholarship 
or  practical  affairs  in  the  struggle  of  life.  The  idea 
seems  to  be  that  the  girls  are  serious  in  education 


1 


i 

B^mUi  i 

IK) 

IJ.t^ 


164 


South  and  West 


only  up  to  a  certain  point,  and  that  marriage  will 
practically  end  the  rivalry. 

The  distiiiguishing  thing,  however,  about  the  State 
University  is  its  vital  connection  with  the  farmers 
and  the  agricultural  interests.  I  do  not  refer  to  the 
agricultural  department,  which  it  has  in  common  with 
many  colleges,  nor  to  the  special  short  agricultural 
course  of  three  months  in  the  \yinter,  intended  to  give 
farmers'  boys,  who  enter  it  without  examination  or 
other  connection  with  the  University,  the  most  availa- 
ble agricultural  information  in  the  briefest  time,  the 
intention  being  not  to  educate  boys  away  from  a  taste 
for  farming  but  to  make  them  better  farmers.  The 
students  must  be  not  less  than  sixteen  years  old,  and 
have  a  common-school  education.  During  the  term 
of  twelve  weeks  they  have  lectures  by  the  professors 
and  recitations  on  practical  and  theoretical  agricult- 
ure, on  elementary  and  agricultural  chemistry,  on  ele- 
mental botany,  with  laboratory  practice,  and  on  the 
anatomy  of  our  domestic  animals  and  the  treatment 
of  their  common  diseases.  But  what  I  wish  to  call 
special  attention  to  is  the  connection  of  the  Univer- 
sity with  the  farmers'  institutes. 

A  special  Act  of  the  Legislature,  drawn  by  a  lawyer, 
Mr.  C.  E.  Estabrook,  authorized  the  farmers'  institutes, 
and  placed  them  under  the  control  of  the  regents  of 
the  University,  who  have  the  power  to  select  a  State 
superintendent  to  control  them.  A  committee  of  three 
of  the  regents  has  special  charge  of  the  institutes. 
Thus  the  farmers  are  brought  into  direct  relation 
with  the  University,  and  while,  as  a  prospectus  says, 
they  are  not  actually  non-resident  students  of  the  Uni- 
versity, they  receive  information  and  instruction  di- 


it. 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


1C5 


rectly  from  it.  The  State  appropriates  twelve  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  to  this  work,  which  pays  the  sal- 
aries of  Mr.  \V.  II.  Morrison,  the  superintendent,  to 
whose  tact  and  energy  the  success  of  the  institutes 
is  largely  due,  and  his  assistants,  and  enables  him  to 
pay  the  expenses  of  specialists  and  agriculturists  who 
can  instruct  the  farmers  and  wisely  direct  the  discus- 
sions at  the  meetings.  By  reason  of  luis  complete  or- 
ganization, which  penetrates  every  part  of  the  State, 
subjects  of  most  advantage  are  considered,  and  time 
is  not  wasted  in  merely  amateur  debates. 

I  know  of  no  other  State  where  a  like  system  of 
popular  instruction  on  a  vital  and  universal  interest 
of  the  State,  directed  by  tlie  highest  educational  au- 
thority, is  so  perfectly  organized  and  carried  on  with 
such  unity  of  purpose  and  detail  of  administration  ; 
no  other  in  which  the  farmer  is  brought  systematically 
into  such  direct  relations  to  the  university.  In  the 
current  year  there  have  been  held  eighty-two  farmers' 
institutes  in  forty-five  counties.  The  list  of  practical 
topics  discussed  is  279,  and  in  this  service  have  been 
engaged  one  hundred  and  seven  workers,  thirty-one 
of  whom  are  specialists  from  other  States.  This  is 
an  "agricultural  college,"  on  a  grand  scale,  brought 
to  the  homes  of  the  people.  The  meetings  are  man- 
aged by  local  committees  in  such  a  way  as  to  evoke 
local  pride,  interest,  and  talent.  I  will  mention  some 
of  the  topics  that  were  thoroughly  discussed  at  one 
of  the  institutes  :  clover  as  a  fertilizer  ;  recuperative 
agriculture  ;  bee-keeping  ;  taking  care  of  the  little 
things  about  the  house  and  farm  ;  the  education  for 
farmers'  daughters  ;  the  whole  economy  of  sheep 
husbandry;  egg  production  ;  poultry  ;  the  value  of 


d^ 


vliyil 


^C^3S»  -  ^LiT.- r^rrrr- ^ 


166 


South  and  West. 


thought  and  application  in  farming  ;  horses  to  breed 
for  tho  farm  and  market ;  breeding  and  management 
of  swine  ;  mixed  farming  ;  grain-raising  ;  assessment 
and  collection  of  taxes  ;  does  knowledge  pay?  (with 
illustrations  of  money  made  by  knowledge  of  tho 
market) ;  breeding  and  care  of  cattle,  with  expert 
testimony  as  to  tlio  best  sorts  of  cows  ;  points  in 
corn  culture  ;  full  discussion  of  small-fruit  culture  ; 
butter-making  as  a  fine  art ;  the  dairy;  our  country 
roads;  agricultural  education.  So,  during  the  winter, 
every  topic  that  concerns  tho  well-being  of  tho  home, 
tho  profit  of  tho  farm,  the  moral  welfare  of  tho  peo- 
ple and  their  prosperity,  was  intelligently  discussed, 
with  audiences  fully  awake  to  the  value  of  this  prac- 
tical and  applied  education.  Some  of  the  best  of 
these  discussions  are  printed  and  widely  distributed. 
Most  of  them  arc  full  of  wise  details  in  the  way  of 
thrift  and  money-making,  but  I  am  glad  to  see  that 
the  meetings  also  consider  the  trutli  that  as  much 
care  should  be  given  to  the  rearing  of  boys  and  girls 
as  of  calves  and  colts,  and  that  brains  are  as  necessary 
in  farming  as  in  any  other  occupation. 

As  these  farmers'  institutes  are  conducted,  I  do  not 
know  any  influence  comparable  to  them  in  waking  up 
the  farmers  to  think,  to  inquire  into  new  and  im- 
proved methods,  and  to  see  in  what  real  prosperity 
consists.  With  prosperity,  as  a  rule,  the  farmer  and 
his  family  are  conservative,  law-keeping,  church-going, 
good  citizens.  The  little  appropriation  of  twelve 
thousand  dollars  has  already  returned  to  the  State  a 
hundred-f old  financially  and  a  thousand-fold  in  general 
intelligence. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  habit  in  Minnesota  and  Wis- 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


167 


consin  of  depending  mostly  upon  one  crop — that  of 
s|)ring  wheat— and  the  disasters  from  this  Hinglo  re- 
liance in  bad  years.  Hard  lessons  aro, beginning  to 
teach  the  advantage  of  mixed  farming  and  stock- 
raising.  In  this  change  the  farmers'  institutes  of 
Wisconsin  have  been  potent.  As  one  observer  says, 
"They  have  produced  a  revolution  in  the  mode  of 
farming,  raising  crops,  and  caring  for  stock."  The 
farmers  have  been  enabled  to  protect  themselves 
against  the  effects  of  drought  and  other  evils.  Tak- 
ing the  advice  of  the  institute  in  1880,  the  farmers 
planted  50,000  acres  of  ensilage  corn,  which  took  the 
place  of  the  short  hay  crop  caused  by  the  drought. 
This  provision  saved  thousands  of  dollars'  worth  of 
stock  in  several  counties.  From  all  over  the  State 
comes  the  testimony  of  farmers  as  to  the  good  results 
of  the  institute  work,  like  this:  "Several  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  improved  stock  have  been  brought 
in.  Creameries  and  cheese-factories  have  been  estab- 
lished and  well  supported.  Farmers  are  no  longer 
raising  grain  exclusively  as  heretofore.  Our  hill-sides 
are  covered  with  clover.  Our  farmers  are  encouraged 
to  labor  anew.  A  new  era  of  prosperity  in  our  State 
dates  from  the  farmers'  institutes." 

There  is  abundant  evidence  that  a  revolution  is  go- 
ing on  in  the  farming  of  Wisconsin,  greatly  assisted, 
if  not  inaugurated,  by  this  systematic  popular  instruc- 
tion from  the  University  as  a  centre.  It  may  not 
greatly  interest  the  reader  that  the  result  of  this  Avill 
be  greater  agricultural  wealth  in  Wisconsin,  but  it 
docs  concern  him  that  putting  intelligence  into  farm- 
ing must  inevitably  raise  the  level  of  the  home  life 
and  the  general  civilization  of  Wisconsin.     I  have 


m 

Mi 

T  "it 


i\  *!'i 


1.1  7» 


■I) 

I 

i 


^ 


■^ 


168 


/S(9?^<A  ana'  TF^*^. 


spoken  of  this  centralized,  systematic  effort  in  some 
detail  becfiuse  it  seems  more  efficient  tban  the  work 
of  agricultural  societies  and  sporadic  institutes  in 
other  States. 

In  another  matter  Wisconsin  has  taken  a  step  in 
advanco  of  other  States  ;  that  is,  in  the  care  of  the 
insane.  The  hUate  has  about  2600  insane,  increasing 
at  the  rate  of  about  167  a  year.  The  provisions  in 
the  State  for  these  are  the  State  Hospital  (capacity  of 
500),  Northern  Hospital  (capacity  of  600),  the  Mil- 
waukee Asylum  (capacity  of  255),  and  fifteen  county 
asylums  f (  r  the  cbronic  insane,  including  two  nearly 
ready  (capacity  1220).  The  improvement  in  the  care 
of  the  insane  consists  in  several  particulars — the  do- 
ing away  of  restraints,  either  by  mechanical  appli- 
ances or  by  narcotics,  reasonable  separation  of  the 
chronic  cases  from  tho  others,  increased  liberty,  and 
the  substitution  of  wholesome  labor  for  idleness. 
Many  of  these  changes  have  been  brought  about  bv 
the  establishment  of  county  asylums,  the  feaUire  of 
which  I  Avish  specially  to  speak.  The  State  sylunis 
were  crowded  beyond  their  proper  capacity,  classifi- 
cation was  difficult  in  them,  and  a  large  number  of 
the  insane  were  miserably  housed  in  county  jails  and 
poor-houses.  The  evils  of  great  establishments  were 
more  and  more  apparent,  and  it  was  determined  to 
try  the  experiment  of  county  asylums.  These  have 
now  been  in  operation  for  six  years,  and  a  word  about 
their  constitution  and  perfectly  successful  operation 
may  be  of  public  service. 

These  asylums,  which  are  only  for  the  chronic  in- 
sane, are  managed  by  local  authorities,  but  under  con- 
stant and  close  State  supervision;  this  last  provision 


Economic  and  Social  2\>mcs. 


169 


is  absolutely  essential,  and  no  doubt  accounts  for  the 
success  of  the  undertaking.  It  is  not  necessary  here 
to  enter  into  details  as  to  the  construction  of  these 
buildings.  They  are  of  brick,  solid,  plain,  comforta- 
ble, and  of  a  size  to  accommodate  not  less  than  fiftv 
nor  more  than  one  hundred  inmates :  an  institution 
with  less  than  fifty  is  not  economical;  one  with  a 
larger  number  than  one  hundred  is  unwieldy,  and  bc- 
yon;l  the  personal  supervision  of  the  superintendent. 
A  farh'  is  needed  for  economy  in  maintenance  and  to 
furnish  occupation  for  the  men;  about  four  acres  for 
each  inmate  is  a  fair  allowance.  The  land  should  be 
fertile,  and  adapted  to  a  variety  of  crops  as  well  as  to 
cattle,  and  it  should  have  woodland  to  give  occupation 
in  the  winter.  The  fact  is  recognized  that  idleness  is 
no  better  for  an  insane  than  for  a  sane  person.  The 
house-work  is  all  done  bv  the  women:  the  farm,  sjar- 
de?),  and  general  out-door  work  by  the  men.  Expe- 
rience shows  that  three-fourths  of  the  chronic  insano 
can  be  furnished  occupation  of  some  sort,  and  greatly 
to  their  physical  and  moral  well-being.  The  nervous- 
ness incident  always  to  restraint  and  idleness  disap- 
pears with  liberty  and  occupation.  Hence  greater 
happiness  and  comfort  to  the  insane,  and  occasionally 
a  complete  or  partial  cure. 

About  one  attendant  to  twenty  insane  persons  is 
sufficient,  but  it  is  necessary  that  these  should  havi* 
intelligence  and  tact;  the  men  capal)le  of  leading  in 
farm-work,  the  women  to  instruct  in  house-work  and 
dress-makiiij;,  and  it  is  well  if  thev  can  i)1.i\  some 
musical  instrument  and  direct  in  amuscnu-iits.  One 
of  the  most  encouraging  features  of  this  experinx  tit 
in  small  asylums  has  been  the  discovirry  of  so  nuny 


11 1 


170 


South  and  West. 


S'Sft 


n  I  - 

■  » 


efficient  superintendents  and  matrons  among  the  in- 
telligent farmers  and  business  men  of  the  rural  dis- 
tricts, who  have  the  practical  sagacity  and  financial 
ability  to  carry  on  these  institutions  successfully. 

These  asylums  are  as  open  as  a  school;  no  locked 
doors  (instead  of  window-bars,  the  glass-frames  are 
of  iron  painted  white),  no  pens  made  by  high  fences. 
The  inmates  are  free  to  go  and  come  at  their  work, 
with  no  other  restraint  than  the  watch  of  the  attend- 
ants. The  asylum  is  a  home  and  not  a  prison.  The 
great  thing  is  to  provide  occupation.  The  insane,  it 
is  found,  can  be  trained  to  regular  industry,  and  it  is 
remarkable  how  little  restraint  is  needed  if  an  earnest 
effort  is  made  to  do  without  it.  In  the  county  asy- 
lums of  Wisconsin  about  one  person  in  a  thousand  is 
in  restraint  or  seclusion  each  day.  The  whole  theory 
seems  to  be  to  treat  the  insane  like  persons  in  some 
way  diseased,  who  need  occupation,  amusement,  kind- 
ness. The  practice  of  this  theory  in  the  Wisconsin 
county  asylums  is  so  successful  that  it  must  ultimate- 
ly affect  the  treatment  of  the  insrne  all  over  the 
country. 

And  the  beauty  of  it  is  that  it  is  as  economical  as 
it  is  enliglitened  and  humane.  The  secret  of  provid- 
ing occupation  for  this  class  is  to  buy  as  little  material 
and  hire  as  little  labor  as  possible  ;  let  the  women 
make  the  clothes,  and  the  men  do  the  farm -work 
without  the  aid  of  machinery.  The  surprising  result 
of  this  is  that  some  of  these  asylums  approach  the 
point  of  Ixing  self-supporting,  and  all  of  them  save 
money  to  the  counties,  compared  with  the  old  method. 
Tlie  State  has  not  lost  by  these  asylums,  :i!i<l  tlio 
counties  have  gained  ;  nor  has  the  economy  been  pur- 


I -J 


I 


A'conornio  and  Social  Topics. 


171 


] 


chased  at  the  expense  of  liumanity  to  tlie  insane ;  the 
insane  in  the  county  asylums  have  been  as  well  clothed, 
lodged,  and  fed  as  in  the  State  institutions,  and  have 
had  more  freedom,  and  consequently  more  personal 
comfort  and  a  better  chance  of  abating  their  mania. 
This  is  the  result  arrived  at  bj-  an  exhaustive  report 
on  these  county  asylums  in  the  report  of  the  State 
Board  of  Charities  and  Reforms,  of  which  Mi.  Albert 
O.  Wright  is  secretary.  The  average  cost  per  week 
per  capita  of  patients  in  the  asylums  by  the  latest  re- 
port was,  in  the  State  Hospital,  $4.39;  in  the  North- 
ern Hospital,  $4.33;  in  the  county  asylums,  $1.89. 

The  new  system  considers  the  education  of  the 
chronic  insane  an  important  part  of  their  treatment ; 
not  specially  book-learning  (though  that  may  be  in- 
cluded), but  training  of  the  mental,  moral,  and  phys- 
ical faculties  in  habits  of  order,  propriety,  and  labor. 
By  these  means  wonders  have  been  worked  for  the  in- 
sane. The  danger,  of  course,  is  that  the  local  asylums 
may  fall  into  unproductive  routine,  and  that  politics 
will  interfere  with  the  intelligent  State  supervision. 
If  Wisconsin  is  able  to  keep  her  State  institutions  out 
of  the  clutches  of  men  with  whom  politics  is  a  busi- 
ness simply  for  what  they  can  make  out  of  it  (as  it  is 
with  those  who  oppose  a  civil  service  not  based  upon 
partisan  dexterity  and  subserviency),  she  will  carry 
her  enlightened  ideas  into  the  making  of  a  model 
State.  The  working  out  of  such  a  noble  reform  as 
this  in  the  treatment  of  the  insane  can  only  be  in- 
trusted to  men  specially  qualified  by  knowledge,  sym- 
pathy, and  enthusiasm,  and  would  be  impossible  in 
the  hands  of  changing  political  workers.  The  sys- 
tematized enlijjhtenment  of  the  farmers  in  the  farmers' 


^ 


■A 

I 

w 


m\\ 


r 

4, 

f  r 

i  I 


I   • 


4  • 

1    .    ' 


■i'ffil 


172 


South  and  Wost. 


h  I 


llAfi 


institutes  by  means  of  their  vital  connection  with  the 
University  needs  the  steady  direction  of  those  who  are 
devoted  to  it,  and  not  to  any  party  success.  As  to 
education  generally,  it  may  be  said  that  while  for  the 
present  the  popular  favor  to  the  State  University  de- 
pends upon  its  being  "practical"  in  this  and  other 
ways,  the  time  will  come  whon  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
highest  service  it  can  ren  "  .  the  State  is  by  upholding 
pure  scholarship,  without  the  least  material  object. 

Another  institution  of  which  Winconsin  has  reason 
to  be  proud  is  the  State  Historical  Society — a  corpo- 
ration (dating  from  1853)  with  perpetual  succession, 
supported  by  an  annual  appropriation  of  five  thousand 
dollars,  with  provisions  for  printing  the  reports  of  the 
society  and  the  catalogues  of  the  library.  It  is  housed 
in  the  Capitol.  The  society  has  accumulated  inter- 
esting historical  portraits,  cabinets  of  antiquities,  nat- 
ural history,  and  curiosities,  a  collection  of  copper, 
and  some  vah^1ble  MSS.  for  the  library.  The  library 
is  one  of  the  bes*:  historical  collections  in  the  countrv. 
The  excellence  of  it  is  largely  due  to  Lyman  C.  Dra- 
per, LL.D.,  who  was  its  secretary  for  thirty -throe 
years,  but  who  began  as  early  as  1834  to  gather  facts 
and  materials  for  border  history  and  biography,  and 
M'ho  had  in  1852  accumulated  thousands  of  manu- 
scripts and  historical  statements,  the  nucleus  of  the 
present  splendid  library,  which  embraces  rare  and  val- 
uable works  relating  to  the  history  of  nearly  every 
State.  This  material  is  arranged  by  States,  and  read- 
ily accessible  to  the  student.  Indeed,  there  are  few 
historical  libraries  in  the  country  where  historical  re- 
search in  American  subjects  can  be  better  prosecuted 
than  in  this.     Tlie  library  began  in   January,  1854, 


Wt 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


173 


I 


with  fifty  volumes.  In  January,  1887,  it  had  57,935 
vohimes  and  60,731  pamplilets  and  documents,  making 
a  total  of  118,660  titles. 

There  is  a  large  law  library  in  the  State-honse,  the 
University  has  a  fair  special  library  for  the  students, 
and  in  the  city  is  a  good  public  circulating  library, 
free,  supported  by  a  tax,  and  much  used.  For  a  young 
city,  it  is  therefor*,  very  wel'  off  for  books. 

Madison  is  not  only  an  educational  centre,  but  an 
intelligent  city;  the  people  read  and  no  doubt  buy 
books,  but  they  do  no ;  support  book -stores.  The 
shops  where  books  are  sold  are  variety  -  shops,  deal- 
ing in  stationer}',  artists'  materials,  cheap  pictures, 
bric-a-brac.  Books  are  of  minor  importance,  and  but 
few  are  "  kept  in  stock."  Indeed,  bookselling  is  not 
a  profitable  part  of  the  business;  it  does  not  pay  to 
"  handle  "  books,  or  to  keep  the  run  of  new  publica- 
tions, or  to  keep  a  supply  of  standard  works.  In  this 
the  shops  of  Madison  are  not  peculiar.  It  is  true  all 
over  the  West,  except  in  two  or  three  large  cities,  and 
true,  perhaps,  not  quite  so  generally  in  the  East;  the 
book-shops  are  not  the  literary  and  intellectual  centres 
they  used  to  be. 

There  are  several  reasons  given  for  this  discour- 
aging state  of  the  book-trade.  Perhaps  it  is  true  that 
people  accustomed  to  newspapers  full  of  "  selections," 
to  the  flimsy  publications  found  on  the  cheap  count- 
fei'S,  and  to  the  magazines,  do  not  buy  "  books  that  are 
books,"  except  for  "furnishing;"  that  they  depend 
more  and  more  upon  the  circulating  libraries  for  any- 
thing that  co«ts  more  than  an  imported  cigar  or  half 
a  pound  of  oandy.  The  local  dealers  say  that  the 
system  of  the  great  publishing  houses  is  unsatisfacto- 


% 


m 


>•-!' 


Hi* 


\%\ 


jIJ    . 


4\ 


X 


'U 


1'^, 


«•■  • 


174 


South  and  West. 


ry  as  to  prices  and  discounts.  Private  persons  can 
get  the  same  discounts  as  the  dealers,  and  can  very 
likely,  by  ordering  a  list,  buy  more  chea^)ly  than  of 
the  local  bookseller,  and  therefore,  as  a  matter  of  busi- 
ness, he  says  that  it  does  not  pay  to  keep  books  ;  he 
gives  up  trying  to  sell  them,  and  turns  his  attention 
to  "  varieties."  Another  reason  for  the  decline  in  the 
trade  may  be  in  the  fact  that  comparatively  few  book- 
sellers are  men  of  taste  in  letters,  men  who  read,  or 
keep  the  run  of  new  publications.  If  a  retail  grocer 
knew  no  more  of  his  business  than  many  booksellers 
know  of  theirs,  he  would  certainly  fail.  It  is  a  pity 
on  all  accounts  that  the  book-trade  is  in  this  condition. 
A  bookseller  in  any  community,  if  he  is  a  man  of  lit- 
erary culture,  and  has  a  love  of  books  and  knowledge 
of  them,  can  do  a  great  deal  for  the  cultivation  of  the 
public  taste.  His  shop  becomes  a  sort  of  intellectual 
centre  of  the  town.  If  the  public  find  there  an  at- 
mosphere of  books,  and  are  likely  to  have  their  wants 
met  for  pu.  lications  new  or  rare,  they  will  generally 
sustain  the  'lOp;  at  least  this  is  my  observation.  Still, 
I  should  noL  like  to  attempt  to  say  Avhother  the  falling 
off  in  the  retail  book-trade  is  due  to  want  of  skill  in 
the  sellers,  to  the  publishing  machinery,  or  to  public 
indifference.  The  subject  is  worthy  the  attention  of 
experts.  It  is  undeniably  importaiit  to  maintain  ev- 
erywhere these  little  depots  of  intellectual  supply.  In 
a  town  new  to  him  the  visitor  is  apt  to  estimate  the 
taste,  the  culture,  the  refinement,  as  well  as  the  wealth 
of  the  town,  by  its  shops.  The  stock  in  the  dry  goods 
and  fancy  stores  tells  one  thing,  that  in  the  art-store? 
another  thing,  that  in  the  book-stores  another  thing, 
about  the  inhabitants.    The  West,  even  on  the  remote 


Economic  and  Social  Topics. 


175 


frontiers,  is  full  of  magnificent  stores  of  goods,  telling 
of  taste  as  well  as  luxury;  the  book -shops  are  the 
poorest  of  all. 

The  impression  of  the  North-west,  thus  far  seen,  is 
that  of  tremendous  energy,  material  refinement,  much 
open  -  mindedness,  considerable  self  -  appreciation,  un- 
common sagacity  in  meeting  new  problems,  generous 
hospitality,  the  Old  Testament  notion  of  possessing 
this  world,  rather  more  recognition  of  the  pecuniary 
as  the  only  success  than  exists  in  the  East  and  South, 
intense  national  enthusiasm,  and  unblushing  and  most 
welcome  "Americanism." 

In  these  sketchy  observations  on  the  North-west 
nothing  has  seemed  to  me  more  interesting  and  im- 
portant than  the  agricultural  changes  going  on  in 
eastern  Dakota,  Minnesota,  and  Wisconsin.  In  the 
vast  wheat  farms,  as  w^ell  as  in  the  vast  cattle  ranges, 
there  is  an  element  of  speculation,  if  not  of  gambling, 
of  the  chance  of  immense  profits  or  of  considerable 
loss,  that  is  neither  conducive  to  the  stable  prosperity 
nor  to  the  moral  soundness  of  a  State.  In  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  great  farms,  and  in  the  introduction  of 
varied  agriculture  and  cattle-raising  on  a  small  scale, 
there  will  not  be  so  many  great  fortunes  made,  but 
each  State  will  be  richer  as  a  whole,  and  less  liable  to 
yearly  fluctuations  in  pi'osperity.  But  the  gain  most 
worth  considering  will  be  in  the  home  life  and  the 
character  of  the  citizens.  The  best  life  of  any  com- 
munity depends  upon  varied  industries.  No  part  of 
the  United  States  has  ever 


prospei 


regar( 


well-being  of  the  mass  of  the  people,  that  relied  upon 
the  production  of  a  single  staple. 


< 


\ 


fy 


M 


V.' 


mil" 


IX. 
CHICAGO. 

[Jflxat  3Papcr.] 

Chicago  is  becoming  modest.  Perhaps  the  inhab- 
itants may  still  be  able  to  conceal  their  modesty,  but 
nevertheless  they  feel  it.  The  explanation  is  simple. 
The  city  has  grown  not  only  beyond  the  most  san- 
guine expectations  of  those  who  indulged  in  the  most 
inflated  hope  of  its  future,  but  it  has  grown  beyond 
what  they  said  they  expected.  This  gives  the  citi- 
zens pause — as  it  might  an  eagle  that  laid  a  roc's  egg. 

The  fact  is,  Chicago  has  become  an  independent 
organism,  growing  by  a  combination  of  forces  and  op- 
portunities, beyond  the  contrivance  of  any  combination 
of  men  to  help  or  hinder,  beyond  the  need  of  flaming 
circulars  and  reports  of  boards  of  trade,  and  process 
pictures.  It  has  passed  the  danger  or  the  fear  of 
rivalry,  and  reached  the  point  where  the  growth  of 
any  other  portion  of  the  great  North-west,  or  of  any 
city  in  it  (whatever  rivalry  that  city  may  show  in  in- 
dustries or  in  commerce),  is  in  some  way  a  contribu- 
tion to  the  power  and  wealth  of  Chicago.  To  them 
that  have  shall  be  given.  Cities,  under  favoring  con- 
ditions for  local  expansion,  which  reach  a  certain 
amount  of  population  and  wealth,  grow  by  a  kind  of 
natural  increment,  the  law  of  attraction,  very  well 
known  in  human  nature,  which  draws  a  person  to  an 


Chicago. 


177 


active  city  of  two  hundred  thousand  rather  than  to  a 
stagnant  city  of  one  hundred  thousand.  And  it  is  a 
fortunate  thing  for  civilization  that  this  attraction  is 
almost  as  strong  to  men  of  letters  as  it  is  to  men  of 
affairs.  Chicago  has,  it  seems  to  me,  only  recently 
turned  this  point  of  assured  expansion,  and,  as  I  in- 
timated, the  inhabitants  have  hardly  yet  become  ac- 
customed to  this  idea  ;  but  I  believe  that  the  time  is 
near  when  they  will  -e  as  indifferent  to  what  stran- 
gers think  of  Chicago  as  the  New-Yorkers  are  to  what 
strangers  think  of  New  York.  New  York  is  to-day 
the  onlj'  American  city  free  from  this  anxious  note 
of  provincialism — though  in  Boston  it  rather  takes 
the  form  of  pity  for  the  unenlightened  man  who 
doubts  its  superiority  ;  but  the  impartial  student  of 
Chicago  to-day  can  see  plenty  of  signs  of  the  sure 
growth  of  this  metropolitan  indifference.  And  yet 
there  is  still  here  enough  of  the  old  Chicago  stamp  to 
make  the  place  interesting. 

It  is  everything  in  getting  a  point  of  view.  Last 
summer  a  lady  of  New  Orleans  who  had  never  before 
been  out  of  her  native  T^rench  city,  and  who  would 
look  upon  the  whole  North  with  tln^  impartial  eyes  of 
a  foreigner — and  more  than  that,  with  Continental 
eyes  —  visited  Chicago,  and  afterwards  New  York. 
"  Which  city  did  you  like  best  ?"  I  asked,  without 
taking  myself  seriously  in  the  question.  To  my  sur- 
prise, she  hesitated.  This  hesitation  was  fatal  to  all 
my  preconceived  notions.  It  mattered  not  thereafter 
which  she  preferred :  she  had  hesitated,  lihe  was 
actually  comparing  Chicago  to  New  York  in  her  mind, 
as  one  might  compare  Paris  and  London.  The  au- 
dacity of  the  comparison  I  saw  was  excused  by  its  in- 
12 


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178 


South  and  West. 


nocence.  I  confess  that  it  had  never  occurred  to  me 
to  tliink  of  Chicago  in  that  Continental  light.  "  Well," 
she  said,  not  seeing  at  all  the  humor  of  my  remark, 
"Chicago  seems  to  me  to  have  finer  buildings  and 
residences,  to  be  the  more  beautiful  city  ;  but  of 
course  there  is  more  in  New  York  ;  it  is  a  greater 
city  ;  and  I  should  prefer  to  live  there  for  what  I 
want."  This  naive  observation  set  me  thinking,  and 
I  wondered  if  there  was  a  point  of  view,  say  that  of 
divine  omniscience  and  fairness,  in  which  Chicago 
would  appear  as  one  of  the  great  cities  of  the  world, 
in  fact  a  metropolis.,  by-and-by  to  rival  in  population 
and  wealth  any  city  of  the  seaboard.  It  has  certainly 
better  commercial  advantages,  so  far  as  water  com- 
munication and  railways  go,  than  Paris  or  Pekin  or 
Berlin,  and  a  territory  to  supply  and  receive  from  in- 
finitely vaster,  richer,  and  more  promising  than  either. 
This  territory  will  have  many  big  cities,  but  in  the 
nature  of  things  only  one  of  surpassing  importance. 
And  taking  into  account  its  geographical  position — a 
thousand  miles  from  the  Atlantic  seaboard  on  the 
one  side,  and  from  the  mountains  on  the  other,  with 
the  acknowledged  tendency  of  people  and  of  money 
to  it  as  a  continental  centre — it  seems  to  me  that  Chi- 
cago is  to  be  that  one. 

The  growth  of  Chicago  is  one  of  the  marvels  of  the 
world.  I  do  not  wonder  that  it  is  incomprehensible 
even  to  those  who  have  seen  it  year  by  year.  As  I 
remember  it  in  1860,  it  was  one  of  the  shabbiest  and 
mos^  unattractive  cities  of  about  a  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants  anywhere  to  be  found  ;  but  even  then  it 
had  more  than  trebled  its  size  in  ten  years ;  the 
streets  were  mud  sloughs,  the  sidewalks  were  a  series 


Chicago. 


179 


of  stairs  and  more  or  less  rotten  planks,  half  the  town 
was  in  process  of  elevation  above  the  tadpole  level, 
and  a  considerable  part  of  it  was  on  wheels — the  mov- 
ing house  being  about  the  only  wheeled  vehicle  that 
could  get  around  with  any  comfort  to  the  passengers. 
The  west  side  was  a  straggling  shanty -town,  the 
north  side  was  a  country  village  with  two  or  three 
"  aristocratic "  houses  occupying  a  square,  the  south 
side  had  not  a  handsome  business  building  in  it,  nor  a 
public  edifice  of  any  merit  except  a  couple  of  churches, 
but  there  were  a  few  pleasant  residences  on  Michigan 
Avenue  fronting  the  encroaching  lake,  and  on  Wa- 
bash Avenue.  Yet  I  am  not  sure  that  even  then  the 
exceedingly  busy  and  excited  traders  and  speculators 
did  not  feel  that  the  town  was  more  important  than 
New  York.  For  it  had  a  great  business.  Aside  from 
its  real  estate  operations,  its  trade  that  year  was  set 
down  at  $97,000,000,  embracing  its  dealing  in  prod- 
uce, its  wholesale  supply  business,  and  its  manufact- 
uring. 

No  one  then,  however,  would  have  dared  to  pre- 
dict that  the  value  of  trade  in  1887  Avould  be,  as  it 
was,  81,103,000,000.  Nor  could  any  one  have  believed 
that  the  j^opulation  of  100,000  would  reach  in  1887 
nearly  800,000  (estimated  782,644),  likely  to  reach  in 
J  888,  with  the  annexation  of  contiguous  villages  that 
have  become  physically  a  part  of  the  city,  the  amount 
of  900,000.  Growing  at  i^'  usual  rate  for  several 
years  past,  the  city  is  certain  in  a  couple  of  years  to 
count  its  million  of  people.  And  there  is  not  prob- 
ably anywhere  congregated  a  more  active  and  ag- 
gressive million,  with  so  great  a  proportion  of  young, 
ambitious  blood.     Other  figures  keep  pace  with  those 


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South  and  West. 


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of  trade  and  population.  I  will  mention  only  one  or 
two  of  them  here.  The  national  banks,  in  1887,  bad 
a  capital  of  $15,800,000,  in  which  the  deposits  were 
$80,473,746,  the  loans  and  discounts  $63,113,821,  the 
surplus  and  profits  $6,320,559.  The  First  National  is, 
I  believe,  the  second  or  third  largest  banking  house  in 
the  country,  having  a  deposit  account  of  over  twenty- 
two  millions.  The  figures  given  only  include  the  na- 
tional banks;  add  to  these  the  private  banks,  and  the 
deposits  of  Chicago  in  1887  were  $105,367,000.  The 
aggregate  bank  clearings  of  the  city  were  $2,969,216,- 
210.60,  an  increase  of  14  per  cent,  over  1886.  It  should 
be  noted  that  there  were  only  twenty-one  banks  in  the 
clearing  house  (with  an  aggregate  capital  and  surplus 
of  $28,514,000),  and  that  the  fewer  the  banks  the  small- 
er the  total  clearings  will  be.  The  aggregate  Board  of 
Trade  clearings  for  1887  were  $78,1 79,869.  In  the  year 
188G  Chicago  imported  merchandise  entered  for  con- 
sumption to  the  value  of  $11,574,449,  and  paid  $4,349,- 
237  duties  on  it.  I  did  not  intend  to  go  into  statistics, 
but  these  and  a  few  other  figures  will  give  some  idea 
of  the  volume  of  business  in  this  new  city.  I  found 
on  inquiry  that— owing  to  legislation  that  need  not 
be  gone  into — there  are  few  savings-banks,  and  the 
visible  savings  of  labor  cut  a  small  figure  in  this  way. 
The  explanation  is  that  there  are  several  important 
loan  and  building  associations.  Money  is  received  on 
deposit  in  small  amounts,  and  loaned  at  a  good  rate 
of  interest  to  those  wishing  to  build  or  buy  houses, 
the  latter  paying  in  small  instalments.  The  result  is 
that  these  loan  institutions  have  been  very  profitable 
to  those  who  have  put  money  in  them,  and  that  the 
laborers  who  have  borrowed  to  build  have  also  been 


Chicago. 


181 


benefited  by  putting  all  their  savings  into  houses.  I 
believe  there  is  no  other  large  city,  except  Philadel- 
phia perhaps,  where  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  in- 
habitants own  the  houses  they  live  in.  There  is  no 
better  prevention  of  the  spread  of  anarchical  notions 
and  communist  foolishness  than  this. 

It  is  an  item  of  interest  that  the  wholesale  dry- 
goods  jobbing  establishments  increased  their  business 
in  1887  \2\  per  cent,  over  1886.  Five  houses  have  a 
capital  of  $9,000,000,  and  the  sales  in  1887  were  near- 
ly $74,000,000.  And  it  is  worth  special  mention  that 
one  man  in  Chicago,  Marshall  Field,  is  the  largest 
wholesale  and  retail  dry-goods  merchant  in  the  world. 
In  his  retail  shop  and  wholesale  store  there  are  3000 
employes  on  the  pay-roll.  As  to  being  first  in  his 
specialty,  the  same  may  be  said  of  Philip  D.  Armour, 
who  not  only  distances  all  rivals  in  the  world  as  a 
packer,  but  no  doubt  also  as  a  merchant  of  such  prod- 
ucts as  the  hog  contributes  to  the  support  of  life.  Ilis 
sales  in  one  year  have  been  over  $61,000,000.  The  city 
has  also  the  distinction  of  having  among  its  citizens 
Henry  W.  King,  the  largest  dealer,  in  establishments 
here  and  elsewhere,  in  clothing  in  the  world. 

In  nothing  has  the  growth  ot*  Chicago  been  more 
marked  in  the  past  five  years  than  in  manufactures. 
I  cannot  go  into  the  details  of  all  the  products,  but 
the  totals  of  manufacture  for  1887  were,  in  2390  firms, 
$113,960,000  capital  employed,  134,615  workers,  $74,- 
507,000  paid  in  wages,  and  the  value  of  the  product 
was  $403,109,600 — an  increase  of  product  over  1886  of 
about  15^^  per  cent.  A  surprising  item  in  this  is  the 
book  and  publishing  business.  The  increase  of  sales  of 
books  in  1887  over  1886  was  20  per  cent.     The  whole- 


182 


South  and  West. 


sale  sales  for  1887  are  estimated  at  810,000,000.  It 
is  now  claimed  that  as  a  book-publisliing  centre  Chi- 
cago ranks  second  only  to  New  York,  and  that  in  the 
issue  of  subscription -books  it  does  more  business  than 
New  York,  Boston,  and  Phihadelphia  combined.  In  re- 
gard to  musical  instruments  the  statement  is  not  less 
surprising.  In  1887  the  sales  of  pianos  amounted  to 
about  $2,000,000— a  gain  of  $300,000  over  1880.  My 
authority  for  this,  and  for  some,  but  not  all,  of  the 
other  figures  given,  is  the  Tribune^  which  says  that 
Chicago  is  not  only  the  largest  reed-organ  market  in 
the  world,  but  that  more  organs  are  manufactured 
here  than  in  any  other  city  in  Europe  or  America. 
The  sales  for  1887  were  $2,000,000 — an  increase  over 
1886  of  $500,000.  There  were  $1,000,000  worth  of 
small  musical  instruments  sold,  and  of  sheet  music 
and  music-books  a  total  of  $450,000.  This  speaks 
well  for  the  cultivation  of  musical  taste  in  the  West, 
especially  as  there  was  a  marked  improvement  in  the 
class  of  the  music  bought. 

The  product  of  the  iron  manufactures  in  1887,  in- 
cluding rolling-mills  ($23,952,000)  and  founderics  ($10,- 
000,000),  w.is  $61,187,000  against  $40,790,000  in  1886, 
and  the  wages  paid  in  iron  and  steel  work  was  $14,- 
899,000.  In  1887  there  Avere  erected  4833  buildings, 
at  a  reported  cost  of  $19,778,100 — a  few  more  build- 
ings, but  yet  at  nearly  two  millions  less  cost,  than  in 
1886.  A  couple  of  items  interested  me:  that  Chica- 
go made  in  1887  $900,000  worth  of  toys  and  $500,000 
worth  of  perfumes.  The  soap-makers  waged  a  gal- 
lant but  entirely  unsuccessful  war  against  the  soot  and 
smoke  of  the  town  in  producing  $6,250,000  worth  of 
soap  and  candles.     I  do  not  see  it  mentioned,  but  I 


Chicago. 


183 


should  think  the  laundry  business  in  Chicago  would 
bo  the  most  profitable  one  at  present. 

Without  attempting  at  all  to  set  forth  the  business 
of  Chicago  in  detail,  a  few  more  figures  will  help  to 
indicate  its  volume.  At  the  beginning  of  1887  the 
storage  capacity  for  grain  in  29  elevators  was  27,025,- 
000  bushels.  The  total  receipts  of  flour  and  grain  in 
1882,  '3,  '4,  '5,  and  '6,  in  buwhels,  were  respectively, 
126,155,483,  104,924,732,  159,501,474,  150,408,228, 
151,932,095.  In  1887  the  receipts  in  bushels  were: 
flour,  6,873,544;  wheat,  21,848,251 ;  corn,  51,578,410; 
oats,  45,750,842;  rye,  852,726;  barley,  12,470,547— 
total,  139,380,320.  It  is  useless  to  go  into  details  of 
the  meat  products,  but  interesting  to  know  that  in 
1886  Chicago  shipped  310,039,600  pounds  of  lard  and 
573,490,012  pounds  of  dressed  beef. 

I  was  surprised  at  the  amount  of  the  lake  com- 
merce, the  railway  traftic  (nearly  50,000  miles  tribu- 
tary to  the  city)  making  so  much  more  show.  In 
1882  the  tonnage  of  vessels  clearing  this  port  was 
4,904,999;  in  1886  it  was  3,950,762.  The  report  of 
the  Board  of  Trade  for  1886  says  the  arrivals  and 
clearances,  foreign  and  coastwise,  for  this  pent  for 
the  year  ending  June  30th  were  22,096,  which  was 
809  more  than  at  the  ports  of  Baltimore,  Boston,  New 
Orleans,  Philadelphia,  Portland  and  Falmouth,  and  San 
Francisco  combined;  315  more  than  at  NewYork,New 
Orleans,  Portland  and  Falmouth,  and  San  Francisco; 
and  100  more  than  at  New  York,  Baltimore,  and  Port- 
land and  Falmouth.  It  will  not  be  overlooked  that 
this  lake  commerce  is  training  a  race  of  hardy  sailors, 
who  would  come  to  the  front  in  case  of  a  naval  war, 
though  they  might  have  to  go  out  on  rafts. 


184 


South  and  West. 


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V 


In  1888  Chicago  is  a  magnificent  city.  Although 
it  has  been  incorporated  fifty  years,  during  which  pe- 
riod its  accession  of  population  has  been  rapid  and 
steady — hardly  checked  by  the  devastating  fires  of 
1871  and  1874 — its  metropolitan  character  and  appear- 
ance is  the  work  of  less  than  fifteen  years.  There  is 
in  history  no  parallel  to  this  product  of  a  freely  act- 
ing democracy:  not  St.  Petersburg  rising  out  of  the 
marshes  at  an  imperial  edict,  nor  Berlin,  the  magic 
creation  of  a  consolidated  empire  and  a  Ca»sar's  pow- 
er. The  north-side  village  has  become  a  city  of  broad 
streets,  running  northward  to  the  parks,  lined  with 
handsome  residences  interspersed  with  stately  man- 
sions of  most  varied  and  agreeable  architecture,  mar- 
red by  very  little  that  is  bizarre  and  pretentious — a 
region  of  churches  and  club-houses  and  public  build- 
ings of  importance.  The  west  side,  the  largest  sec- 
tion, and  containing  more  population  than  the  other 
two  divisions  combined,  stretching  out  over  the  prai- 
rie to  a  horizon  fringed  with  villages,  exuanding  in 
three  directions, is  more  mediocre  in  buildings,  but  im- 
pressive in  its  vastness;  and  the  stranger  driving  out 
the  statel}'^  avenue  of  Washington  some  four  miles  to 
Garfield  Park  will  be  astonished  by  the  evidences  of 
wealth  and  the  vigor  of  the  city  expansion. 

But  it  is  the  business  portion  of  the  south  side  that 
is  the  miracle  of  the  time,  the  solid  creation  of  ener- 
gy and  capital  since  the  fire — the  square  mile  contain- 
ing the  Post-office  and  City  Hall,  the  giant  hotels,  the 
opera-houses  and  theatres,  the  Board  of  Trade  build- 
ing, the  many-storied  offices,  the  great  shops,  the  club- 
houses, the  vast  retail  and  wholesale  warehouses.  This 
area  has  the  advantage  of  some  other  great  business 


^tf  i! 


Chicago. 


185 


centres  in  having  broad  streets  at  right  angles,  but 
with  all  this  openness  for  movement,  the  throng  of 
passengers  and  traffic,  the  intersecting  street  and  cable 
railways,  the  loads  of  freight  and  the  crush  of  car- 
riages, the  life  and  hurry  and  excitemert  arc  sufficient 
to  satisfy  the  most  eager  lover  of  metrof  »litan  pande- 
monium. Unfortunately  for  a  clear  comprehension  of 
it,  the  manufactories  vomit  dense  clouds  of  bitumi- 
nous coal  smoke,  which  settle  in  a  black  mass  in  this 
part  of  the  town,  so  that  one  can  scarcely  see  across 
the  streets  in  a  damp  day,  and  the  huge  buildings  loom 
up  in  the  black  sky  in  ghostly  dimness.  The  climate 
of  Chicago,  though  some  ten  degrees  warmer  than  the 
average  of  its  immediately  tributary  territory,  is  a 
harsh  one,  and  in  the  short  winter  days  the  centre  of 
the  city  is  not  only  black,  but  damp  and  chilly.  In 
some  of  the  November  and  December  days  I  could 
without  any  stretch  of  the  imagination  fancy  myself  in 
London.  On  a  Sunday,  when  business  gives  place  to 
amusement  and  religion,  the  stately  city  is  seen  in  all 
its  fine  proportions.  No  other  city  in  the  Union  can 
show  business  warehouses  and  offices  of  more  archi- 
tectural nobility.  The  mind  inevitably  goes  to  Flor- 
ence for  comparison  with  the  structures  of  the  IMedi- 
cean  merchant  princes.  One  might  name  the  Pullman 
Building  for  offices  as  an  example,  and  the  wholesale 
warehouse  of  3Iarshall  Field,  the  work  of  that  truly 
original  American  architect, Richardson,  which  in  mas- 
sivencss,  simplicity  of  lines,  and  admirable  blending  of 
artistic  beauty  with  adaptability  to  its  purpose,  seems 
to  rae  unrivalled  in  this  countrv.  A  few  of  these  build- 
ings  are  exceptions  to  the  general  style  of  architect- 
ure, which  is  only  good  of  its  utilitarian  American 


r 


1 4   t; 


V 


186 


South  and  West. 


kind,  but  they  give  distinction  to  the  town,  and  I  am 
sure  are  prophetic  of  the  concrete  form  the  wealth  of 
the  city  will  take.  The  visitor  is  likely  to  be  surprised 
at  the  number  and  size  of  the  structures  devoted  to 
offices,  and  to  think,  as  he  sees  some  of  them  unfilled, 
that  the  business  is  overdone.  At  any  given  moment 
it  may  be,  but  the  demand  for  "offices"  is  always  sur- 
jjrising  to  those  who  pay  most  attention  to  this  sub- 
ject, and  I  am  told  that  if  the  erection  of  office  build- 
ings should  cease  for  a  year,  the  demand  would  pass 
beyond  the  means  of  satisfying  it. 

Leaving  the  business  portion  of  the  south  side,  the 
city  runs  in  apparently  limitless  broad  avenues  south- 
ward into  suburban  villages  and  a  region  thickly  pop- 
ulated to  the  Indiana  line.  The  continuous  slightly 
curving  lake  front  of  the  city  is  about  seven  miles, 
pretty  solidly  occupied  with  houses.  The  Michigan 
Avenue  of  1860,  with  its  wooden  fronts  and  cheap 
boarding-houses,  has  taken  on  quite  anotlier  appear- 
ance, and  extends  its  broad  way  in  unbroken  lines  of 
line  residences  five  miles,  which  will  be  six  miles  next 
summer,  when  its  opening  is  completed  to  the  entrance 
of  Washington  Park.  I  do  not  know  such  another 
street  in  the  world.  In  the  evening  the  converging 
lines  of  gas  lamps  offer  a  prospective  of  unequalled 
beauty  of  its  kind.  The  south  parks  are  reached  now 
by  turning  either  into  the  Drexel  Boulevard  or  the 
Grand  Boulevard,  a  magnificent  avenue  a  mile  in 
length,  tree-planted,  gay  with  flower-beds  in'  the  sea- 
son, and  crowded  in  the  sleighing-timc  with  fast  teams 
and  fancy  turnouts. 

This  leads  me  to  speak  of  another  feature  of  Chica- 
go, which  has  no  rival  in  this  country  :  I  mean  the 


Chicago. 


187 


facility  for  pleasure  driving  and  riding.  Michigan 
Avenue  from  the  month  of  the  river,  the  centre  of 
town,  is  macadamized.  It  and  the  other  avenues  im- 
mediately connected  with  the  park  system  are  not  in- 
cluded in  the  city  street  department,  but  are  under 
the  care  of  the  Commissioners  of  Parks.  No  traffic  is 
permitted  on  them,  and  consequently  they  are  in  su- 
})erb  condition  for  driving,  summer  and  winter.  The 
whole  length  of  Michigan  Avenue  you  will  never  see 
a  loaded  team.  These  roads — that  is,  Michigan  Ave- 
nue and  the  others  of  the  park  system,  and  the  park 
drives — are  superb  for  driving  or  riding,  perfectly 
made  for  drainage  and  permanency,  with  a  top-dressing 
of  pulverized  granite.  The  cost  of  the  Michigan  Av- 
enue drive  was  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  mile. 
The  cost  of  the  parks  and  boulevards  in  each  of  the 
three  divisions  is  met  by  a  tax  on  the  property  in  that 
division.  The  tax  is  considerable,  but  the  wise  liber- 
ality of  the  citizens  has  done  for  the  town  what  only 
royalty  usually  accomplishes  —  given  it  magnificent 
roads;  and  if  good  roads  are  a  criterion  of  civiliza- 
tion, Chicago  must  stand  very  high.  But  it  needed  a 
community  with  a  great  deal  of  daring  and  confidence 
in  the  future  to  create  this  park  system. 

One  in  the  heart  of  the  city  has  not  to  drive  three 
or  four  miles  over  cobble  -  stones  and  ruts  to  get  to 
good  driving-ground.  When  he  has  entered  Michi- 
gan Avenue  be  need  not  pull  rein  for  twenty  to  thirty 
miles.  This  is  almost  literally  true  as  to  extent,  with- 
out counting  the  miles  oi  fine  drives  in  the  parks ; 
for  the  city  proper  is  circled  by  great  parks,  already 
laid  out  as  pleasure-grounds,  tree-planted  and  beauti- 
fied to  a  high  degree,  although  they  are  nothing  to 


I 


I 


188 


South  and  West. 


what  cultivation  will  make  them  in  ten  years  more. 
On  the  lake  shore,  at  the  south,  is  Jackson  Park ;  next 
is  Washington  Park,  twice  as  largo  as  Central  Park, 
New  York  ;  then,  farther  to  the  west,  and  north, 
Douglas  Park  and  Garfield  Park ;  then  Humboldt 
Park,  until  we  come  round  to  Lincoln  Park,  on  the 
lake  shore  on  the  north  side.  These  parks  arc  all  con- 
nected by  broad  boulevards,  some  of  which  are  not 
yet  fully  developed,  thus  forming  a  continuous  park 
drive,  with  enough  of  nature  and  enough  of  varied 
architecture  for  variety,  unsurpassed,  I  should  say,  in 
the  world  within  any  city  limits.  Washington  Park, 
with  a  slightly  rolling  surface  and  beautiful  landscape- 
gardening,  has  not  only  fine  drive-ways,  but  a  splendid 
road  set  apart  for  horsemen.  This  is  a  dirt  road,  al- 
ways well  sprinkled,  and  the  equestrian  has  a  chance 
besides  of  a  gallop  over  springy  turf.  Water  is  now 
so  abundantly  provided  that  this  park  is  kept  green  in 
the  driest  season.  From  anywhere  in  the  south  side 
one  may  mount  his  horse  or  enter  his  carriage  for  a 
turn  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  on  what  is  equivalent 
to  a  country  road — that  is  to  say,  an  English  country 
road.  Of  the  effect  of  this  facility  on  social  life  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  speak.  On  the  lake  side  of 
Washington  Park  are  the  grounds  of  the  Washington 
Park  Racing  Club,  with  a  splendid  track,  and  stables 
and  other  facilities  which,  I  am  told,  exceed  anything 
of  the  kind  in  the  country.  The  club-house  itself  is 
very  handsome  and  commodious,  is  open  to  the  mem- 
bers and  their  families  summer  and  winter,  and  makes 
a  favorite  rendezvous  for  that  part  of  society  which 
shares  its  privileges.  Besides  its  large  dining  and 
dancing  halls,  it  has  elegant  apartments  set  apart  for 


^ 


Chicago. 


189 


ladies.    In  winter  itH  hospitable  rooms  and  big  wood 
fires  are  very  attractive  after  a  zero  drive. 

Almost  equal  facility  for  driving?  and  riding  is  bad 
on  the  north  side  by  taking  the  lake-shore  drive  to 
Lincoln  Park.  Too  much  cannot  be  said  of  the  beau- 
ty of  this  drive  along  the  curving  shore  of  an  inland 
sea,  ever  attractive  in  the  play  of  changing  lights  and 
colors,  and  beginning  to  be  fronted  by  palatial  houses 
— a  foretaste  of  the  coming  Venetian  variety  and 
splendor.  The  park  itself,  dignified  by  the  Lincoln 
statue,  is  an  exquisite  piece  of  restful  landscape,  look- 
ed over  by  a  thickening  assemblage  of  stately  resi- 
dences.    It  ii  a  quarter  of  spacious  elegance. 

One  hardly  knows  how  to  speak  justly  of  either  the 
physical  aspect  or  the  social  life  of  Chicago,  the  pres- 
ent performance  suggesting  such  promise  and  imme- 
diate change.  The  excited  admiration  waits  a  little 
upon  expectation.  I  should  like  to  sec  it  in  five  years 
— in  ten  years  ;  it  is  a  formative  period,  but  one  of 
such  excellence  of  execution  that  the  imagination  takes 
a  very  high  flight  in  anticipating  the  result  of  another 
quarter  of  a  century.  What  other  city  has  begun  so 
nobly  or  has  planned  so  liberally  for  metropolitan  so- 
lidity, elegance,  and  recreation  ?  What  other  has 
such  magnificent  avenues  and  boulevards,  and  such  a 
system  of  parks  ?  The  boy  is  born  here  who  will  see 
the  town  expanded  far  beyond  these  splendid  pleas- 
ure-grounds, and  what  is  now  the  circumference  of 
the  city  will  be  to  Chicago  what  the  vernal  gardens 
from  St.  James  to  Hampton  are  to  London.  This  an- 
ticipation hardly  seems  strange  when  one  remembers 
what  Chicago  was  fifteen  years  ago. 

Architecturally,  Chicago  is  more  interesting  than 


I 


T 

I 


\i 


[A 


'H 


w 


190 


iSoutK  and  West. 


many  oUler  cities.     Its  wealth  and  opportunity  for 
fine  building  coming  when  our  national  tasto  is  begin- 
ning to  bo  individual,  it  has  escaped  the  monotony 
and  mediocrity  in  which  New  York  for  so  many  years 
put  its  money,  and  out  of  the  sameness  of  which  it  is 
escaping  in  spots.     Having  also  plenty  of  room,  Chi- 
cago has  been  able  to  avoid  the  block  system  in  its 
residences,  and  to  give  play  to  variety  and  creative 
genius.     It  is  impossible  to  do  much  with  the  interior 
of  a  house  in  a  block,  however  much  you  may  load  the 
front  with  ornament.    Confined  to  a  long  parallelo- 
gram, and  limited  as  to  light  and  air,  neither  comfort 
nor  individual  tasto   can   be  consulted  or  satisfied. 
Chicago  is  a  city  of  detnched  houses,  in  the  humbler 
quarters  as  well  as  in  the  magnificent  avenues,  and 
the  effect  is  home-like  and  beautiful  at  the  same  time. 
There  is  great  variety — stone,  brick,  and  wood  inter- 
mingled, plain  and  ornamental ;  but  drive  where  you 
will  iu  the  favorite  residence  parts  of  the  vast  city, 
you  will  be  continually  surprised  with  the  sight  of 
noble  and  artistic  houses  and  homes  displaying  taste 
as  well  as  luxury.     In  addition  to  the  business  and 
public  buildings  of  which  I  spoke,  there  are  several, 
like  the  Art  Museum,  the  Studebaker  Building,  and 
the  new  Auditorium,  which  would  be  conspicuous  and 
admired  in  any  city  in  the  world.     The  city  is  rich  in 
a  few  specimens  of  private  houses  by  Mr.  Richardson 
(whose  loss  to  the  country  is  still  apparently  irrepara- 
ble), houses  worth  a  long  journey  to  see,  so  simple,  so 
noble,  so  full  of  comfort,  sentiment,  unique,  having 
what  may  be  called  a  charming  personality.     As  to 
interiors,  there  has  been  plenty  of  money  spent  in 
Chicago  in  mere  show ;  but,  after  all,  I  know  of  no 


Chicago. 


191 


other  city  that  has  more  character  and  individuality 
in  its  interiors,  more  evidences  of  personal  refinement 
and  taste.  There  is,  of  course — Boston  knows  that — 
a  grace  and  richness  in  a  dwelling  in  which  genera- 
tions have  accumulated  the  best  fruits  of  wealth  and 
cultivation;  but  any  tasteful  stranger  here,  I  am  sure, 
will  bo  surprised  to  find  in  a  city  so  new  so  many 
homes  pervaded  by  the  atmosphere  of  books  and  art 
and  refined  sensibility,  due,  I  imagine,  mainly  to  the 
taste  of  the  women,  for  while  there  are  i)lenty  of  men 
hero  who  have  taste,  there  are  very  few  who  have  lei- 
sure to  indulge  it;  and  I  doubt  if  there  was  ever  any- 
where a  livable  house — a  man  can  build  a  palace,  but 
he  cannot  make  a  home — that  was  not  the  creation  of 
a  refined  woman.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Chicago 
is  not  still  very  much  the  victim  of  the  upholstorer, 
and  that  the  eye  is  not  offended  bj'  a  good  deal  that 
is  gaudy  and  pretentious,  but  there  is  so  much  here 
that  is  in  exquisite  taste  that  one  has  a  hopeful  heart 
about  its  future.  Everybody  is  not  yet  educated  up 
to  the  "  Richardson  houses,"  but  nothing  is  more  cer- 
tain than  that  they  will  powerfully  influence  all  the 
future  architecture  of  the  town. 

Perhaps  there  never  was  before  such  an  opportunity 
to  study  the  growth  of  an  enormous  city,  physically 
and  socially,  as  is  offered  now  in  Chicago,  where  the 
development  of  half  a  century  is  condense^  nito  a  dec- 
ade. In  one  respect  it  differs  from  all  other  cities  of 
anything  like  its  size.  It  is  not  only  surrounded  by  a 
complete  net- work  of  railways,  but  it  is  permeated  by 
them.  The  converging  lines  of  twenty-one  (I  think 
it  is)  railways  paralleling  each  other  or  criss-crossing 
in  the  suburbs  concentrate  upon  fewer  tracks  as  they 


T 


192 


South  and  West. 


r  i 


.;  V 


t 


II 


I 


•  ( 


enter  the  dense  part  of  the  city,  but  they  literally  sur- 
round it,  and  actually  pierce  its  heart.  So  complete 
is  this  environment  and  interlacing  that  you  cannot 
enter  the  city  from  any  direction  without  encountering 
a  net-work  of  tracks.  None  of  the  water-front,  except 
a  strip  on  the  north  side,  is  free  from  them.  The 
finest  residence  part  of  the  south  side,  including  the 
boulevards  and  parks,  is  surrounded  and  cut  by  them. 
There  are  a  few  viaducts,  but  for  the  most  part  the 
tracks  occupy  streets,  and  the  crossings  are  at  grade. 
Along  the  Michigan  Avenue  water-front  and  down 
the  lake  shore  to  Hyde  Park,  on  the  Illinois  Central 
and  the  Michigan  Central  and  their  connections,  the 
foreign  and  local  trains  pass  incessantly  (I  believe  over 
sixty  a  day),  and  the  Illinois  crosses  above  Sixteenth 
Street,  cutting  all  the  great  southward  avenues ;  and 
farther  down,  the  tracks  run  between  Jackson  Park 
and  Washington  Park,  crossing  at  grade  the  600-feet- 
wide  boulevard  which  connects  these  great  parks  and 
.nakes  them  one.  These  tracks  and  grade  crossings, 
from  which  so  few  parts  of  the  city  are  free,  are  a  se- 
rious evil  and  danger,  and  the  annoyance  is  increased 
by  the  multiplicity  of  street  railways,  and  by  the  swift- 
ly running  cable-cars,  which  are  a  constant  source  of 
alarm  to  the  timid.  The  railways  present  a  difficult 
problem.  The  town  covers  such  a  vast  area  (always 
extending  in  a  ratio  that  cannot  be  calculated)  that  to 
place  all  the  passenger  stations  outside  would  be  a 
great  inconvenience,  to  unite  the  lines  in  a  single  sta- 
tion probably  impracticable.  In  time,  however,  the 
roads  must  come  in  on  elevated  viaducts,  or  concen- 
trate in  three  or  four  stations  which  communicate  with 
the  central  parts  of  the  town  by  elevated  roads. 


Chicago. 


193 


This  state  of  things  arose  from  the  fact  that  the 
railways  antedated,  and  we  may  say  made,  the  town, 
which  lias  grown  up  along  their  lines.  To  a  town  of 
pure  business,  transportation  Avas  the  first  requisite, 
and  the  newer  roads  have  been  encouraged  to  pene- 
trate as  far  into  the  city  as  they  could.  Now  that  it 
is  necessary  to  make  it  a  city  to  live  in  safely  .ind 
agreeably,  the  railways  are  regarded  from  another 
point  of  view.  I  suppose  a  sociologist  would  make 
some  reflections  on  the  effect  of  such  a  thorough  per- 
meation of  tracks,  trains,  engines,  and  traffic  upon  the 
temperament  of  a  town,  the  action  of  these  exciting 
and  irritating  causes  upon  its  nervous  centres.  Living 
in  a  big  railway-station  must  have  an  effect  on  the 
nerves.  At  present  this  seems  a  legitimate  part  of 
the  excited  activity  of  the  city ;  but  if  it  continv.es, 
with  the  rapid  increase  of  wealth  and  the  growth  of  a 
leisure  class,  the  inhabitants  who  can  afford  to  get 
away  will  live  here  only  the  few  months  necessary 
to  do  their  business  and  take  a  short  season  of  social 
gayety,  and  then  go  to  quieter  places  early  in  the 
spring  and  for  the  summer  months. 

It  is  at  this  point  of  view  that  the  value  of  the 
park  system  appears,  not  only  as  a  relief,  as  easily  ac- 
cessible recreation  -  grounds  for  the  inhabitants  in 
every  part  of  the  city,  but  as  an  element  in  society  life. 
These  parks,  which  I  have  already  named,  contain 
1742  acres.  The  two  south  parks,  connected  so  as  to 
be  substantially  one,  have  957  acres.  Their  great  con- 
necting boulevards  are  interfered  with  somewhat  by 
railway-tracks,  and  none  of  them,  except  Lincoln,  can 
be  reached  without  crossing  tracks  on  which  locomo- 
tives run,  yet,  as  has  been  said,  the  most  important  of 
13 


194 


South  and  West. 


!■    ! 


h 

W 


W 


>  « 


them  are  led  to  by  good  driving-roads  from  the  heart 
of  the  city.  They  have  excellent  roads  set  apart  for 
equestrians  as  well  as  for  driving.  These  facilities 
induce  the  keeping  of  horses,  the  setting  up  of  fine 
equipages,  and  a  display  for  which  no  other  city  has 
better  opportunity.  This  cannot  but  have  an  appre- 
ciable effect  upon  the  growth  of  luxury  and  display 
in  this  direction.  Indeed,  it  is  already  true  that  the 
city  keeps  more  private  carriages — for  the  pleasure 
not  only  of  the  rich,  but  of  the  M'ell-to-do — in  propor- 
tion to  its  population,  than  any  other  large  city  I 
know.  These  broad  thoroughfares,  kept  free  from 
traffic,  furnish  excellent  sleighing  when  it  does  not 
exist  in  the  city  streets  generally,  and  in  the  summer 
unequalled  avenues  for  the  show  of  wealth  and  beauty 
and  style.  In  a  few  years  the  turnouts  on  the  Grand 
Boulevard  and  the  Lincoln  Park  drive  will  be  worth 
going  far  to  see  for  tliose  who  admire — and  who  does 
not?  for,  the  world  over,  wealth  has  no  spectacle  more 
attractive  to  all  classes — fine  horses  and  the  splendor 
oif  moving  equipages.  And  here  is  no  cramped  mile 
or  two  for  parade,  like  most  of  the  fashionable  drives 
of  the  world,  but  space  inviting  healthful  exercise  as 
well  as  display.  These  broad  avenues  and  park  out- 
looks, with  ample  ground-room,  stimulate  architectur- 
al rivalry,  and  this  opportunity  for  driving  and  riding 
and  being  on  view  cannot  but  affect  very  strongly  the 
social  tone.  The  foresight  of  the  busy  men  who 
planned  this  park  system  is  already  vindicated.  The 
public  appreciate  their  privileges.  On  fair  days  the 
driving  avenues  are  thronged.  One  Sunday  afternoon 
in  January,  when  the  sleighing  Avas  good,  some  one 
estimated  that  there  were  as  many  as  ten  thousand 


Chicago. 


195 


teams  flying  up  and  down  Michigan  Avenue  and  the 
Grand  Boulevard.  This  was,  of  course,  an  over-esti- 
mate, but  the  throng  made  a  ten-thousand  impression 
on  the  mind.  Perhaps  it  was  a  note  of  Western  in- 
dependence that  a  woman  was  here  and  there  seen 
"  speeding  "  a  fast  horse,  in  a  cutter,  alone. 

I  suppose  that  most  of  these  people  had  been  to 
church  in  the  morning,  for  Chicago,  which  does  every- 
thing it  puts  its  hand  to  with  tremendous  energy,  is 
a  church-going  city,  and  I  believe  presents  some  con- 
trast to  Cincinnati  in  this  respect.  Religious,  mission, 
and  Sunday-school  work  is  very  active,  churches  are 
many,  whatever  the  liberaliiy  of  the  creeds  of  a  ma- 
jority of  them,  and  there  are  several  congregations  of 
over  two  thousand  people.  One  vast  music-hall  and 
one  theatre  are  thronged  Sunday  after  Sunday  with 
organized,  vigorous,  worshipful  congregations.  Be- 
sides these  are  the  Sunday  meetings  for  ethical  cult- 
ure and  Christian  science.  It  is  true  that  many  of 
the  theatres  are  open  as  on  week-days,  and  there  is  a 
vast  foreign  population  that  takes  its  day  of  rest  in 
idleness  or  base-ball  and  garden  amusements,  but  the 
prevailing  aspect  of  the  city  is  that  of  Sunday  observ- 
ance. There  is  a  good  deal  of  wholesome  New  Eng- 
land in  its  tone.  And  it  welcomes  any  form  of  activ- 
ity— orthodoxy,  liberalism,  revivals,  ethical  culture. 

A  special  interest  in  Chicago  at  the  moment  is  be- 
cause it  is  forming — full  of  contrasts  and  of  promise, 
palaces  and  shanties  side  by  side.  Its  forces  are  gatii- 
ered  and  accumulating,  but  not  assimilated.  What  a 
mass  of  crude,  undigested  material  it  has  !  In  one 
region  on  the  west  side  are  twenty  thousand  Bohe- 
mians and  Poles ;  the  street  signs  are  all  foreign  and 


196 


South  and  West. 


k 


'  m' 


I 


if? 


^^■^Hj^BSi ' 

Wm 

p 

^HSuM^L    I 

: 

'm 

■ 

if 

f 

■    1 

'  1 

of  unpronounceable  names — a  physically  strong,  but 
mentally  and  morally  brutal,  people  for  the  most  part ; 
the  adults  generally  do  not  speak  English,  and  clan- 
ning  as  they  do,  they  probably  never  will.  There  is 
no  hope  that  this  generation  will  be  intelligent  Amer- 
ican citizens,  or  be  otherwise  than  the  political  prey 
of  demagogues.  But  their  children  are  in  the  excel- 
lent public  schools,  and  will  take  in  American  ideas 
and  take  on  American  ways.  Still,  the  mill  has  about 
as  much  grist  as  it  can  grind  at  present. 

Social  life  is,  speaking  generally,  as  unformed,  un- 
selected,  as  the  city — that  is,  more  fluid  and  undeter- 
mined than  in  Eastern  large  cities.  That  is  merely  to 
say,  however,  that  while  it  is  American,  it  is  young. 
When  you  come  to  individuals,  the  people  in  society 
are  largely  from  the  East,  or  have  Eastern  connec- 
tions that  determine  their  conduct.  For  twenty  years 
the  gr jat  universities.  Harvard,  Yale,  Amherst,  Prince- 
ton, and  the  rest,  have  been  pouring  in  their  young 
men  here.  There  is  no  better  element  in  the  world, 
and  it  is  felt  in  every  pulse  of  the  town.  Young 
couples  marry  and  come  here  from  every  sort  of 
Eastern  circle.  But  the  town  has  grown  so  fast,  and 
so  many  new  people  have  come  into  the  ability  sud- 
denly to  spend  money  in  fine  houses  and  equipages, 
that  the  people  do  not  know  each  other.  You  may 
drive  past  miles  of  good  houses,  with  a  man  who  has 
grown  up  with  the  town,  who  cannot  tell  you  who 
any  of  the  occupants  of  the  houses  are.  Men  know 
each  other  on  change,  in  the  courts,  in  business,  and 
are  beginning  to  know  each  other  in  clubs,  but  socie- 
ty has  not  got  itself  sorted  out  and  arranged,  or  dis- 
covered its  elements.    This  is  a  metropolitan  trait,  it 


Chicago, 


197 


is  true,  but  the  condition  is  socially  very  different 
from  what  it  is  in  New  York  or  Boston ;  the  small 
village  associations  survive  a  little  yet,  struggling 
against  the  territorial  distances,  but  the  social  mass 
is  still  unorganized,  although  "society"  is  a  promi- 
nent feature  in  the  newspapers.  Of  course  it  is  un- 
derstood that  there  are  people  "  in  society,"  and  din- 
ners, and  all  that,  in  nowise  different  from  the  same 
people  and  events  the  world  over. 

A  striking  feature  of  the  town  is  "  youth,"  visible 
in  social  life  as  well  as  in  business.  An  Eastern  man 
is  surprised  to  see  so  many  young  men  in  responsible 
positions,  at  the  head,  or  taking  the  managing  oar,  in 
great  moneyed  institutions,  in  railway  corporations, 
and  in  societies  of  charity  and  culture.  A  young 
man,  graduate  of  the  city  high-school,  is  at  the  same 
time  president  of  a  prominent  bank,  president  of  the 
Board  of  Trade,  and  president  of  the  Art  Institute. 
This  youthful  spirit  must  be  contagious,  for  appa- 
rently the  more  elderly  men  do  not  permit  them- 
selves to  become  old,  either  in  the  business  or  the 
pleasures  of  life.  Everything  goes  on  with  youthful 
vim  and  spirit. 

Next  to  the  youth,  and  perhaps  more  noticeable, 
the  characteristic  feature  of  Chicago  is  money-mak- 
ing, and  the  money  power  is  as  obtrusive  socially  as 
on  change.  When  we  come  to  speak  of  educational 
and  intellectual  tendencies,  it  will  be  seen  how  this 
spirit  is  being  at  once  utilized  and  mitigated;  but  for 
the  moment  money  is  the  recognized  power.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise?  Youth  and  energy  did  not 
flock  here  for  pleasure  or  for  society,  but  simply  for 
fortune.      And  success  in  money-getting  was  about 


198 


South  and  West. 


the  only  one  considered.  And  it  is  still  that  by  which 
Chicago  is  chiefly  known  abroad,  by  that  and  by  a 
certain  consciousness  of  it  which  is  noticed.  And  as 
women  reflect  social  conditions  most  vividly,  it  can- 
not be  denied  that  there  is  a  type  known  in  Europe 
and  in  the  East  as  the  Chicago  young  woman,  capa- 
ble rather  than  timid,  dashing  rather  than  retiring, 
quite  able  to  take  care  of  herself.  But  this  is  not  by 
any  means  an  exhaustive  account  of  the  Chicago  wom- 
an of  to-day. 

While  it  must  be  said  that  the  men,  as  a  rule,  are 
too  much  absorbed  in  business  to  give  heed  to  any- 
thing else,  yet  even  this  statement  will  need  more 
qualification  than  would  appear  at  ';rst,when  we  come 
to  consider  the  educational,  industrial,  and  reformci- 
tory  projects.  And  indeed  a  veritable  exception  is 
the  Literary  Club,  of  nearly  two  hundred  members,  a 
mingling  of  business  and  professional  men,  who  have 
fine  rooms  in  the  Art  Building,  and  meet  weekly  for 
papers  and  discussions.  It  is  not  in  every  city  that 
an  equal  number  of  busy  men  will  give  the  time  to 
this  sort  of  intellectual  recreation.  The  energy  here 
is  superabundant;  in  whatever  direction  it  is  exerted 
it  is  very  effective ;  and  it  may  be  said,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  street,  that  if  the  men  of  Chicago  seri- 
ously take  hold  of  culture,  they  will  make  it  hum. 

Still  it  remains  true  here,  as  elsewhere  in  the  United 
States,  that  women  are  in  advance  in  the  intellectual 
revival.  One  cannot  yet  predict  what  will  be  the  re- 
sult of  this  continental  furor  for  literary,  scientific, 
and  study  clubs — in  some  places  in  the  East  the  lit- 
erary wave  has  already  risen  to  the  height  of  the  sci- 
entific study  of  whist — but  for  the  time  being  Chica- 


Chicago. 


199 


go  women  are  in  the  full  swing  of  literary  life.  Mr. 
Browning  says  that  more  of  his  books  are  sold  in 
Chicago  than  in  any  other  American  city.  Granting 
some  affectation,  some  passing  fashion,  in  the  Brown- 
ing, Dante,  and  Shakespeare  clubs,  I  think  it  is  true 
that  the  Chicago  woman,  who  is  imbued  with  the  en- 
ergy of  the  place,  is  more  serious  in  her  work  than 
are  women  in  many  other  places;  at  least  she  is  more 
enthusiastic.  Her  spirit  is  open,  more  that  of  frank 
admiration  than  of  criticism  of  both  literature  and  of 
authors.  This  carries  her  not  only  further  into  the 
heart  of  literature  itself,  but  into  a  genuine  enjoy- 
ment of  it — wanting  almost  to  some  circles  at  th(? 
East,  who  are  too  cultivated  to  admire  with  warmth 
or  to  surrender  themselves  to  the  delights  of  learn- 
ing, but  find  their  avocation  rather  in  what  may  bo 
called  literary  detraction,  the  spirit  being  that  of  dis- 
section of  authors  and  books,  much  as  social  gossips 
pick  to  pieces  the  characters  of  those  of  their  own 
set.  And  one  occupation  is  as  good  as  the  other. 
Chicago  has  some  reputation  for  beauty,  for  having 
pretty,  dashing,  and  attractive  women;  it  is  as  much 
entitled  to  be  considered  for  its  intelligent  women  who 
are  intellectually  agreeable.  Comparisons  are  very  un- 
safe, but  it  is  my  impression  that  there  is  more  love 
for  books  in  Chicago  than  in  New  York  society,  and 
loss  of  the  critical,  nil  aihnirari  spirit  than  in  Boston. 
It  might  be  an  indication  of  no  value  (only  of  the 
taste  of  individuals)  that  books  should  be  the  princi- 
pal "favors"  at  a  fashionable  german,  but  there  is  a 
book-store  in  the  city  whose  evidence  cannot  be  set 
aside  by  reference  to  any  freak  of  fashion.  McClurg's 
book -store  is  a  very  extensive  establishment  in  all 


i 


I     *  ■  ■ 


i 


I^^^R 

Hi 


I 


200 


/iSi>w/A  an<Z  TF(e«<. 


deparlmcnts  —  publishing,  manufacturing,  retailing, 
wholesaling,  and  importing.  In  some  respects  it  has 
not  its  equal  in  this  country.  The  book-lover,  wheth- 
er ho  comes  from  London  or  New  York,  will  find  there 
a  stock,  constantly  sold  and  constantly  replenished,  of 
books  rare,  curious,  interesting,  that  will  surprise  him. 
The  general  intelligence  that  sustains  a  retail  shop 
of  this  variety  and  magnitude  must  be  considerable, 
and  speaks  of  a  taste  for  books  with  which  the  city 
has  not  been  credited;  but  the  cultivation,  the  special 
love  of  books  for  themselves,  which  makes  possible  this 
rich  corner  of  rare  and  imported  books  at  McClurg's, 
would  be  noticeable  in  any  city,  and  women  as  well 
as  men  in  Chicago  are  buyers  and  appreciators  of  first 
editions,  autograph  and  presentation  copies,  and  books 
valued  because  they  are  scarce  and  rare. 

Chicago  has  a  physical  peculiarity  that  radically 
affects  its  social  condition,  and  prevents  its  becoming 
homogeneous.  It  has  one  business  centre  and  three 
distinct  residence  parts,  divided  by  the  branching  riv- 
er. Communication  between  the  residence  sections 
has  to  be  made  through  the  business  city,  and  is  fur- 
ther hindered  by  the  bridge  crossings,  which  cause  ir- 
ritating delays  the  greater  part  of  the  year.  The  re- 
sult is  that  three  villages  grew  up,  now  become  cities 
in  size,  and  each  with  a  peculiar  character.  The  north 
side  was  originally  the  more  aristocratic,  and  having 
fewer  railways  and  a  less-occupied-with-business  lake 
front,  was  the  more  agreeable  as  a  place  of  residence, 
always  having  the  drawback  of  the  bridge  crossings  to 
the  business  part.  After  the  great  fire,  building  lots 
were  cheaper  there  than  on  the  south  side  within  rea- 
sonable distance  of  the  active  city.      It  has  grown 


Chicago. 


201 


amazingly,  and  is  beautified  by  stately  houses  and  fine 
architecture,  and  would  probably  still  be  called  the 
more  desirable  place  of  residence.  But  the  south  side 
has  two  great  advantages— easy  access  to  the  business 
centre  and  to  the  great  southern  parks  and  pleasure- 
grounds.  This  latter  would  decide  many  to  live  there. 
The  vast  west  side,  with  its  lumber-yards  and  facto- 
ries, its  foreign  settlements,  and  its  population  out- 
numbering the  two  other  sections  combined,  is  prac- 
tically an  unknown  region  socially  to  the  north  side 
and  south  side.  The  causes  which  produced  three  vil- 
lages suiTounding  a  common  business  centre  will  con- 
tinue to  operate.  The  west  side  will  continue  to  ex- 
pand with  cheap  houses,  or  even  elegant  residences 
on  the  park  avenues — it  is  the  glory  of  Chicago  that 
such  a  large  proportion  of  its  houses  are  owned  by 
their  occupants,  and  that  there  are  few  tenement  rook- 
eries, and  even  few  gigantic  apartment  houses — over 
a  limitless  prairie;  the  north  side  will  grow  in  increas- 
ing beauty  about  Lincoln  Park;  and  the  south  side  will 
more  and  more  gravitate  with  imposing  houses  about 
the  attractive  south  parks.  Thus  the  two  fashionable 
parts  of  the  city,  separated  by  five,  eight,  and  ten 
miles,  will  develop  a  social  life  of  their  own,  about 
as  distinct  as  New  York  and  Brooklyn.  It  remains 
to  be  seen  which  will  call  the  other  "  Brooklyn."  At 
present  these  divisions  account  for  much  of  the  dis- 
organization of  social  life,  and  prevent  that  concen- 
tration which  seems  essential  to  the  highest  social  de- 
velopment. 

In  this  situation  Chicago  is  original,  as  she  is  in 
many  other  ways,  and  it  makes  one  of  the  interesting 
phases  in  the  guesses  at  her  future. 


( 


•  .1 


m 


If 


CHICAGO. 

[iSeconli  yayer.] 

The  country  gets  its  impression  of  Chicago  largely 
from  the  Chicago  newspapers.  In  my  observation, 
the  impression  is  wrong.  The  press  is  able,  vigorous, 
voluminous,  full  of  enterprise,  alert,  spirited;  its  news 
columns  are  marvellous  in  quantity,  if  not  in  quality; 
nowhere  are  important  events,  public  meetings,  and 
demonstrations  more  fully,  graphically,  and  satisfac- 
torily reported;  it  has  keen  and  competent  writers  in 
several  departments  of  criticism — theatrical,  musical, 
and  occasionally  literary;  independence,  with  less  of 
personal  bias  than  in  some  other  cities ;  the  editorial 
pages  of  most  of  the  newspapers  are  bright,  sparkling, 
witty,  not  seldom  spiced  with  knowing  drollery,  and 
strong,  vivid,  well-informed  and  well-written,  in  the 
discussion  of  public  questions,  with  an  allowance  al- 
ways to  be  made  for  the  "personal  equation"  in  deal- 
ing with  particular  men  and  measures — as  little  pro- 
vincial in  this  respect  as  any  press  in  the  country. 

But  it  lacks  tone,  elevation  of  purpose  ;  it  repre- 
sents to  the  world  the  inferior  elements  of  a  great  city 
rather  than  the  better,  under  a  mistaken  notion  in  the 
press  and  the  public,  not  confined  to  Chicago,  as  to 
what  is  "  news."  It  cannot  escape  the  charge  of  being 
highly  sensational;  that  is,  the  elevation  into  notorie- 


Chicago. 


203 


ty  of  mean  peroow  mmA  la—  events  by  every  rhetor- 
ical and  pictorial  device.  Day  after  day  the  leading 
news,  the  most  displayed  and  most  conspicuoua,  will 
be  of  vulgar  men  and  women,  and  all  the  more  ex- 
panded if  it  have  in  it  a  spice  of  scandal.  This  sort 
of  reading  creates  a  diseased  appetite,  which  requires 
a  stronger  dose  daily  to  satisfy;  and  people  who  read 
it  lose  their  relish  for  the  higher,  more  decent,  if  less 
])iquant,  news  of  the  world.  Of  course  the  Chicago 
newspapers  are  not  by  any  means  alone  in  this  course; 
it  is  a  disease  of  the  time.  Even  New  York  has  re- 
cently imitated  successfully  this  feature  of  what  is 
called  Western  journalism. 

But  it  is  largely  from  the  Chicago  newspapers  that 
the  impression  has  gone  abroad  that  the  city  is  pre- 
eminent in  divorces,  pre-eminent  in  scandals,  that  its 
society  is  fast,  that  it  is  vulgar  and  pretentious,  that 
its  tone  is  "  shoddy,"  and  its  culture  a  sham.  The 
laws  of  Illinois  in  regard  to  divorces  are  not  more  lax 
than  in  some  Eastern  States,  and  divorces  are  not 
more  numerous  there  of  residents  (according  to  popu- 
lation) than  in  some  Eastern  towns  ;  but  while  the 
press  of  the  latter  give  merely  an  official  line  to  the 
court  separations,  the  Chicago  papers  parade  all  the 
details,  and  illustrate  them  with  pictures.  Many  peo- 
ple go  there  to  get  divorces,  because  they  avoid  scan- 
dal at  their  homes,  and  because  the  Chicago  courts 
oflEer  unusual  facilities  in  being  open  every  month  in 
the  year.  Chicago  has  a  young,  mobile  population,  an 
immense  foreign  brutal  element.  I  watched  for  some 
weeks  the  daily  rejiorts  of  divorces  and  scandals.  Al- 
most without  exception  they  related  to  the  lower,  not 
to  say  the  more  vulgar,  portions  of  social  life.     In 


1^1 


204 


South  and  West. 


several  years  the  city  has  had,  I  believe,  only  two  causen 
celhbres  in  what  is  called  good  society — a  remarkable 
record  for  a  city  of  its  size.  Of  course  a  city  of  this 
magnitude  and  mobility  is  not  free  from  vice  and  im- 
morality and  fast  living;  but  I  am  compelled  to  record 
the  deliberate  opinion,  formed  on  a  good  deal  of  ob- 
servation and  inquiry,  that  the  moral  tone  in  Chicago 
society,  in  all  the  well-to-do  industrious  classes  which 
give  the  town  its  distinctive  character,  is  purer  and 
higher  than  in  any  other  city  of  its  size  with  which  I 
am  acquainted,  and  purer  than  in  many  much  smaller. 
The  tone  is  not  so  fast,  public  opinion  is  more  restric- 
tive, and  women  take,  and  are  disposed  to  take,  less 
latitude  in  conduct.  This  was  not  my  impression  from 
the  newspapers.  But  it  is  true  not  only  that  social 
life  holds  itself  to  great  propriety,  but  that  the  moral 
atmosphere  is  uncommonly  pure  and  wholesome.  At 
the  same  time,  the  city  does  not  lack  gayety  of  move- 
ment, and  it  would  not  be  called  prudish,  nor  in  some 
respects  conventional. 

It  is  curious,  also,  that  the  newspapers,  or  some  of 
them,  take  pleasure  in  mocking  at  the  culture  of  the 
town.  Outside  papers  catch  this  spirit,  and  the  "  cult- 
ure "  of  Chicago  is  the  butt  of  the  paragraphers.  It 
is  a  singular  attitude  for  newspapers  to  take  regard- 
ing their  own  city.  Not  long  ago  Mr.  McClurg  pub- 
lished a  very  neat  volume,  in  vellum,  of  the  fragments 
of  Sappho,  with  translations.  If  the  volume  had  ap- 
peared in  Boston  it  would  have  been  welcomed  and 
most  respectfully  received  in  Chicago.  But  instead 
of  regarding  it  as  an  evidence  of  the  growing  literary 
taste  of  the  new  town,  the  humorists  saw  occasion  in 
it  for  exquisite  mockery  in  the  juxtaposition  of  Sappho 


Chicago. 


205 


with  tbo  modern  ability  to  kill  seven  pigs  a  minute, 
and  in  the  cleverest  and  most  humorous  manner  set 
all  the  country  in  a  roar  over  the  incongruity.  It 
goes  without  Haying  that  the  business  men  of  Chicago 
were  not  sitting  up  nights  to  study  the  Greek  poets 
in  the  original ;  but  the  fact  was  that  there  was 
enough  literary  taste  in  the  city  to  make  the  volume 
a  profitable  venture,  and  that  its  appearance  was  an 
evidence  of  intellectual  activity  and  scholarly  inclina- 
tion that  would  be  creditable  to  any  city  in  the  land. 
It  was  not  at  all  my  intention  to  intrude  my  impres- 
sions of  a  newspaper  press  so  very  able  and  with  such 
magnificent  opportunities  as  that  of  Chicago,  but  it 
was  unavoidable  to  mention  one  of  the  causes  of  the 
misapprehension  of  the  social  and  moral  condition  of 
the  city. 

The  business  statistics  of  Chicago,  and  the  story  of 
its  growth,  and  the  social  movement,  which  have 
been  touched  on  in  a  previous  paper,  give  only  a  half- 
picture  of  the  life  of  the  town.  The  prophecy  for  its 
great  and  more  hopeful  future  is  in  other  exhibitions 
of  its  incessant  activity.  My  limits  permit  only  a 
reference  to  its  churches,  extensive  charities  (which 
alone  would  make  a  remarkable  and  most  creditable 
chapter),  hospitals,  medical  schools,  cind  conservato- 
ries of  music.  Club  life  is  attaining  metropolitan  pro- 
portions. There  is  on  the  south  side  the  Chicago,  tho 
Union  League,  tho  University,  the  Calumet,  and  on 
the  north  side  the  Union — all  vigorous,  and  most  of 
them  housed  in  superb  buildings  of  their  own.  The 
Women's  Exchange  is  a  most  useful  organization, 
and  the  Ladies'  Fortnightly  ranks  with  the  best  intel- 
lectual associations  in  the  country.    The  Commercial 


IT 

,1: 1 


i 


If 

) 

1 

1  ' 

, 

I 

4  .1 


206 


South  and  West. 


Club,  composed  of  sixty  representative  business  men 
in  all  departments,  is  a  most  vital  element  in  the  pros- 
perity of  the  city.  I  cannot  dwell  upon  these.  But 
at  least  a  word  must  be  said  about  the  charities,  and 
some  space  must  be  given  to  the  schools. 

The  number  of  solicitors  for  far  West  churches  and 
colleges  who  pass  by  Chicago  and  come  to  New  York 
and  New  England  for  money  have  created  the  im- 
pression that  Chicago  is  not  a  good  place  to  go  for 
this  purpose.  Whatever  may  be  the  truth  of  this, 
the  city  does  give  royally  for  private  charities,  and 
liberally  for  mission  work  beyond  her  borders.  It  is 
estimated  by  those  familiar  with  the  subject  that  Chi- 
cago contributes  for  charitable  and  religious  purposes, 
exclusive  of  the  public  charities  of  the  city  and  coun- 
tv,  not  less  than  five  millions  of  dollars  annual! v.  I 
have  not  room  to  give  even  the  partial  list  of  the 
benevolent  societies  that  lies  before  me,  but  beginning 
with  the  Chicago  Relief  and  Aid,  and  the  Armour 
Mission,  and  going  down  to  lesser  organizations,  the 
sum  annually  given  by  them  is  considerably  over  half 
a  million  dollars.  The  amount  raised  by  the  churches 
of  various  denominations  for  religious  purposes  is  not 
less  than  four  millions  yearly.  These  figures  prove 
the  liberality,  and  I  am  able  to  add  that  the  charities 
are  most  sympathetically  and  intelligently  adminis- 
tered. 

Inviting,  by  its  opportunities  for  labor  and  its  fa- 
cilities for  business,  comers  from  all  the  world,  a 
large  proportion  of  whom  are  aliens  to  the  language 
and  institutions  of  America,  Chicago  is  making  a 
noble  fight  to  assimilate  this  material  int<^  good 
citizenship.     The  popular  schools  are  liberally  sus- 


Chicago. 


207 


tained,  intelligently  directed,  practise  the  most  ad- 
vanced and  inspiring  methods,  and  exhibit  excellent 
results.  I  have  not  the  statistics  of  1887  ;  but  in 
1886,  when  the  population  was  only  703,000,  there 
were  129,000  between  the  ages  of  six  and  sixteen,  of 
Avhom  83,000  were  enrolled  as  pupils,  and  the  average 
daily  attendance  in  schools  was  over  65,000.  Besides 
these  there  were  about  43,000  in  private  schools.  The 
census  of  1886  reports  only  34  children  between  the 
ages  of  si::  and  twenty-one  who  could  neither  read 
nor  write.  There  were  91  school  buildings  owned  by 
the  city,  and  two  rented.  Of  these,  three  are  high- 
schools,  one  in  each  division,  the  newest,  on  the  west 
side,  having  1000  students.  The  school  attendance 
increases  by  a  large  per  cent,  each  year.  The  princi- 
pals of  the  high-schools  were  men  ;  of  the  grammar 
and  primary  schools,  35  men  and  42  women.  The 
total  of  teachers  was  1440^  of  whom  56  were  men. 
By  the  census  of  1886  there  were  106,929  children  in 
the  city  under  six  years  of  age.  No  kindergartens 
are  attached  to  the  public  schools,  but  the  question 
of  attaching  them  is  agitated.  In  the  lower  grades, 
however,  the  instruction  is  by  object  lessons,  draw- 
ing, writing,  modelling,  and  exercises  that  train  the 
eye  to  observe,  the  tongue  to  describe,  and  that  awak- 
en attention  without  weariness.  The  alertness  of  the 
scholars  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the  teachers  were 
marked.  It  should  be  added  that  German  is  exten- 
sively taught  in  the  grammar  schools,  and  that  the 
number  enrolled  in  the  German  classes  in  1886  was 
over  28,000.  There  is  some  public  sentiment  for 
throwing  out  German  from  the  public  schools,  and 
generally  for  restricting  studies  in  the  higher  branches. 


208 


South  and  West. 


/ 


i     t! 


/    !^ 


ii 


The  argument  against  this  is  that  very  few  of  the 
children,  and  the  majority  of  those  girls,  enter  the 
high-schools  ;  the  boys  are  taken  out  early  for  busi- 
ness, and  get  no  education  afterwards.  In  1885  were 
organized  public  elementary  evening  schools  (which 
had,  in  1886,  6709  pupils),  and  an  evening  high-school, 
in  which  book-keeping,  stenography,  mechanical  draw- 
ing, and  advanced  mathematics  were  taught.  The 
School  Committee  also  have  in  charge  day  schools  for 
the  education  of  deaf  and  dumb  children. 

The  total  expenditure  for  1886  was  $2,000,803; 
this  includes  $1,023,394  paid  to  superintendents  and 
teachers,  and  large  sums  for  new  buildings,  apparatus, 
and  repairs.  The  total  cash  receipts  for  school  pur- 
poses were  $2,091,951.  Of  this  was  from  the  school 
tax  fund  $1,758,053  (the  total  city  tax  for  all  purposes 
was  $5,368,409),  and  the  rest  from  State  dividend  and 
school  fund  bonds  and  miscellaneous  sources.  These 
figures  show  that  education  is  not  neglected. 

Of  the  quality  and  efficacy  of  this  education  there 
cannot  be  two  opinions,  as  seen  in  the  schools  which  I 
visited.  The  high-school  on  the  west  side  is  a  model 
of  its  kind  ;  but  perhaps  as  interesting  an  example  of 
popular  education  as  any  is  the  Franklin  grammar 
and  primary  school  on  the  north  side,  in  a  district  of 
laboring  people.  Here  were  1700  pupils,  all  children 
of  working  people,  mostly  Swedes  and  Germans,  from 
the  age  of  six  years  upwards.  Here  were  found  some 
of  the  children  of  the  late  anarchists,  and  nowhere 
else  can  one  see  a  more  interesting  attempt  tv.  iaanu- 
facture  intelligent  American  citizens.  The  instruction 
rises  through  the  several  grades  from  object  lessons, 
drawing,  writing  and  reading  (and  writing  and  read- 


Chicago. 


209 


ing  well),  to  elementary  physiology,  political  and  con- 
stitutional history,  and  physical  geography.  Here  is 
taught  to  young  children  what  they  cannot  learn  at 
home,  and  might  never  clearly  comprehend  otherwise; 
not  only  something  of  the  geography  and  history  of 
the  country,  but  the  distinctive  principles  of  our  gov- 
ernment, its  constitutional  ideas,  the  growth,  creeds, 
and  relations  of  political  parties,  and  the  personality 
of  the  great  men  who  have  represented  them.  That 
the  pupils  comprehend  these  subjects  fairly  well  I 
had  evidence  in  recitations  that  were  as  pleasing  as 
surprising.  In  this  way  Chicago  is  teaching  its  alien 
population  American  ideas,  and  it  is  fair  to  presume 
that  the  rising  generation  will  have  some  notion  of 
the  nature  and  value  of  our  institutions  that  will  save 
them  from  the  inclination  to  destroy  them. 

The  public  mind  is  agitated  a  good  deal  on  the 
question  of  the  introduction  of  manual  training  into 
the  public  schools.  The  idea  of  some  people  is  that 
manual  training  should  only  be  used  as  an  aid  to 
mental  training,  in  order  to  give  definiteness  and  ac- 
curacy to  thought ;  others  would  like  actual  trades 
taught ;  and  others  think  that  it  is  outside  the  func- 
tion of  the  State  to  teach  anything  but  elementary 
mental  studies.  The  subject  would  require  an  essay 
by  itself,  and  I  only  allude  to  it  to  say  that  Chicago 
is  quite  alive  to  the  problems  and  the  most  advanced 
educational  ideas.  If  one  would  like  to  study  the 
philosophy  and  the  practical  working  of  what  may  be 
called  physico-mental  training,  I  know  no  better  place 
in  the  country  to  do  so  than  the  Cook  County  Normal 
School,  near  Englewood,  under  the  charge  of  Colonel 
F.  "W.  Parker,  the  originator  of  what  is  known  as  the 
14 


210 


South  and  West. 


I      ! 


\:\  ^ 


•11 


Quincy  (Massachusetts)  System.  This  is  a  training 
school  for  about  100  teachers,  in  a  building  where 
they  have  practice  on  about  600  children  in  all  stages 
of  education,  from  the  kindergarten  up  to  the  eighth 
grade.  This  may  be  called  a  thorough  manual  train- 
ing school,  but  not  to  teach  trades,  work  being  done 
in  drawing,  modelling  in  clay,  making  raised  maps, 
and  wood  -  carving.  The  Quincy  System,  which  is 
sometimes  described  as  the  development  of  character 
by  developing  mind  and  body,  has  a  literature  to  it- 
self. This  remarkable  school,  which  draws  teachers 
for  training  from  all  over  the  country,  is  a  notable 
instance  of  the  hospitality  of  the  West  to  new  and 
advanced  ideas.  It  does  not  neglect  the  literary  side 
in  education.  Here  and  in  some  of  the  grammar 
schools  of  Chicago  the  experiment  is  successfully 
tried  of  interesting  young  children  in  the  best  litera- 
ture by  reading  to  them  from  the  works  of  the  best 
authors,  ancient  and  modern,  and  giving  them  a  taste 
for  what  is  excellent,  instead  of  the  trash  that  is 
likely  to  fall  into  their  hands — the  cultivation  of  sus- 
tained and  consecutive  interest  in  narratives,  essays, 
and  descriptions  in  good  literature,  in  place  of  the 
scrappy  selections  and  reading-books  written  down  to 
the  childish  level.  The  written  comments  and  criti- 
cisms of  the  children  on  what  they  acquire  in  this 
way  are  a  perfect  vindication  of  the  experiment.  It 
is  to  be  said  also  that  this  sort  of  education,  coupled 
with  the  manual  training,  and  the  inculcated  love  for 
order  and  neatness,  is  beginning  to  tell  on  the  homes 
of  these  children.  The  parents  are  actually  being 
educated  and  civilized  through  the  public  schools. 
An  opportunity  for  superior  technical  educatior  is 


Chicago. 


211 


IS 


given  in  the  Chicago  Manual  Training  School,  founded 
and  sustained  by  the  Commercial  Club.  It  has  a 
handsome  and  commodious  building  on  the  corner  of 
Michigan  Avenue  and  Twelfth  Street,  which  accom- 
modates over  two  hundred  pupils,  under  the  direction 
of  Dr.  Henry  H.  Belfield,  assisted  by  an  able  corps  of 
teachers  and  practical  mechanics.  It  has  only  been 
in  operation  since  1884,  but  has  fully  demonstrated  its 
usefulness  in  the  training  of  young  men  for  places  of 
responsibility  and  profit.  Some  of  the  pupils  are 
from  the  city  schools,  but  it  is  open  to  all  boys  of 
good  character  and  promise.  The  course  is  three  years, 
in  which  the  tuition  is  $80,  $100,  and  $120  a  year ; 
but  the  club  provides  for  the  payment  of  the  tuition 
of  a  limited  number  of  deserving  boys  whose  parents 
lack  the  means  to  give  them  this  sort  of  education. 
The  course  includes  the  higher  mathematics,  English, 
and  French  or  Latin,  physics,  chemistry — in  short,  a 
high-school  course — with  drawing,  and  all  sorts  of 
technical  training  in  work  in  wood  and  iron,  the  use 
and  making  of  tools,  and  the  building  of  machinery, 
up  to  the  construction  of  steam-engines,  stationary 
and  locomotive.  Throughout  the  course  one  hour  eaich 
day  is  given  to  drawing,  two  hours  to  shop-work,  and 
the  remainder  of  the  school  day  to  study  and  recita- 
tion. The  shops — the  wood-work  rooms,  the  foundery, 
the  forge-room,  the  machine-shop  —  are  exceedingly 
well  equipped  and  well  managed.  The  visitor  cannot 
but  be  pleased  by  the  tone  of  the  school  and  the  in- 
telligent enthusiasm  of  the  pupils.  It  is  an  institution 
likely  to  grow,  and  perhaps  become  the  nucleus  of  a 
great  technical  school,  which  the  West  much  needs. 
It  is  worthy  of  notice  also  as  an  illustration  of  the 


\  ■ 


212 


South  and  West. 


I  f 


i 


public  spirit,  sagacity,  and  liberality  of  the  Chicago 
business  men.  They  probably  see  that  if  the  city  lo 
greatly  to  increase  its  importance  as  a  manufacturing 
centre,  it  must  train  a  considerable  proportion  of  its 
population  to  the  highest  skilled  labor,  and  that  splen- 
didly equipped  and  ably  taught  technical  schools 
would  do  for  Chicago  what  similar  institutions  in 
Zurich  have  done  for  Switzerland.  Chicago  is  ready 
for  a  really  comprehensive  technical  and  industrial 
college,  and  probably  no  other  investment  would  now 
add  more  to  the  solid  prosperity  and  wealth  of  the 
town. 

Such  an  institution  would  not  hinder,  but  rather 
help,  the  higher  education,  without  which  the  best 
technical  education  tends  to  materialize  life.  Chicago 
must  before  long  recognize  the  value  of  the  intellect- 
ual side  by  beginning  the  foundation  of  a  college  of 
pure  learning.  For  in  nothing  is  the  Western  society 
of  to-day  more  in  danger  than  in  the  superficial  half- 
education  which  is  called  "  practical,"  and  in  the  lack 
of  logic  and  philosophy.  The  tendency  to  the  literary 
side — awakening  a  love  for  good  books — in  the  public 
schools  is  very  hopeful.  The  existence  of  some  well- 
chosen  private  libraries  shows  the  same  tendency.  In 
art  and  archaeology  there  is  also  much  promise.  The 
Art  Institute  is  a  very  fine  building,  with  a  vigorous 
school  in  drawing  and  painting,  and  its  occasional 
loan  exhibitions  show  that  the  city  contains  a  good 
many  fine  pictures,  though  scarcely  proportioned  to 
its  wealth.  The  Historical  Society,  which  has  had  the 
irreparable  misfortune  twice  to  lose  its  entire  collec- 
tions by  fire,  is  beginning  anew  with  vigor,  and  will 
shortly  erect  a  building  from  its  own  funds,     ^mong 


I, 


Chicago, 


213 


1- 
n 


to 
he 

JC- 

ill 


the  private  collections  which  have  a  historical  value 
is  that  relating  to  the  Indian  history  of  the  West 
made  by  Mr.  Edward  Ayer,  and  a  large  library  of 
rare  and  scarce  books,  mostly  of  the  English  Shake- 
speare period,  by  the  Rev.  Frank  M.  Bristoll.  These, 
together  with  the  remarkable  collection  of  Mr.  C.  F. 
Gunther  (of  which  further  mention  will  be  made), 
are  prophecies  of  a  great  literary  and  archaeological 
museum. 

The  city  has  reason  to  be  proud  of  its  Free  Public 
Library,  organized  under  the  general  library  law  of 
Illinois,  which  permits  the  support  of  a  free  library  in 
every  incorporated  city,  town,  and  township  by  taxa- 
tion. This  library  is  sustained  by  a  tax  of  one  half- 
mill  on  the  assessed  value  of  all  the  city  property. 
This  brings  it  in  now  about  $80,000  a  year,  which 
makes  its  income  for  1888,  together  with  its  fund  and 
fines,  about  $90,000.  It  is  at  present  housed  in  the 
City  Hall,  but  will  soon  have  a  building  of  its  own 
(on  Dearborn  Park),  towards  the  erection  of  which  it 
has  a  considerable  fund.  It  has  about  130,000  vol- 
umes, including  a  fair  reference  library  and  many  ex- 
pensive art  books.  The  institution  has  been  well  man- 
aged hitherto,  notwithstanding  its  connection  with 
politics  in  the  appointment  of  the  trustees  by  the 
mayor,  and  its  dependence  upon  the  city  councils. 
The  reading-rooms  are  thronged  daily  ;  the  average 
daily  circulation  has  increased  yearly ;  it  was  2263  in 
1887 — a  gain  of  eleven  per  cent,  over  the  preceding 
year.  This  is  stimulated  by  the  establishment  of 
eight  delivering  stations  in  different  parts  of  the  city. 
The  cosmopolitan  character  of  the  users  of  the  library 
is  indicated  by  the  uncommon  number  of  German, 


214 


South  and  West. 


;  I,  ■'  I 


/^ 


f 


French,  Dutch,  Bohemian,  Polish,  and  Scandinavian 
books.  Of  the  books  issued  at  the  delivery  stations 
in  1887  twelve  per  cent,  were  in  the  Bohemian  lan- 
guage. The  encouraging  thing  about  this  free  library 
is  that  it  is  not  only  freely  used,  but  that  it  is  as  freely 
sustained  by  the  voting  population. 

Another  institution,  which  promises  to  have  still 
more  influence  on  the  city,  and  indeed  on  the  whole 
North-west,  is  the  Newberry  Library,  now  organizing 
under  an  able  board  of  trustees,  who  have  chosen  Mr. 
W.  F.  Poole  as  librarian.  The  munificent  fund  of  the 
donor  is  now  reckoned  at  about  $2,500,000,  but  the 
value  of  the  property  will  be  very  much  more  than 
this  in  a  few  years.  A  temporary  building  for  the 
library,  which  is  slowly  forming,  will  be  erected  at 
once,  but  the  library,  which  is  to  occupy  a  square  on 
the  north  side,  will  not  be  erected  until  the  plans  are 
fully  matured.  It  is  to  be  a  library  of  reference  and 
study  solely,  and  it  is  in  contemplation  to  have  the 
books  distributed  in  separate  rooms  for  each  depart- 
ment, with  ample  facilities  for  reading  and  study  in 
each  room.  If  the  library  is  built  and  the  collections 
are  made  in  accordance  with  the  ample  means  at  com- 
mand, and  in  the  spirit  of  its  projectors,  it  will  power- 
fully tend  to  make  Chicago  not  only  the  money  but 
the  intellectual  centre  of  the  North-west,  and  attract 
to  it  hosts  of  students  from  all  quarters.  One  can 
hardly  over-estimate  the  influence  that  such  a  library 
as  this  may  be  will  have  upon  the  character  and  the 
attractiveness  of  the  city. 

I  hope  that  it  will  have  ample  space  for,  and  that  it 
will  receive,  certain  literary  collections,  such  as  are 
the  glory  and  the  attraction,  both  to   students  and 


Chicago. 


215 


siglit-scers,  of  the  great  libraries  of  the  world.  And 
this  leads  me  to  speak  of  the  treasures  of  Mr.  Gunther, 
the  most  remarkable  private  collection  I  have  ever 
seen,  and  already  worthy  to  rank  with  some  of  the 
most  famous  on  public  exhibition.  Mr.  Gunther  is  a 
candy  manufacture:.,  who  has  an  archaeological  and 
"curio"  taste,  and  for  many  years  has  devoted  an 
amount  of  money  to  the  purchase  of  historical  relics 
that  if  known  would  probably  astonish  the  public. 
Only  specimens  of  what  he  has  can  be  displayed  in 
the  large  apartment  set  apart  for  the  purpose  over 
his  shop.  The  collection  is  miscellaneous,  forming  a 
varied  and  most  interesting  museum.  It  contains 
relics — many  of  them  unique,  and  most  of  them  hav- 
ing a  historical  value — frbm  many  lands  and  all  periods 
since  the  Middle  Ages,  and  is  strong  in  relics  and 
documents  relating  to  our  own  history,  from  the  colo- 
nial period  down  to  the  close  of  our  civil  war.  But 
the  distinction  of  the  collection  is  in  its  original  let- 
ters and  manuscripts  of  famous  people,  and  its  mis- 
sals, illuminated  manuscripts,  and  rare  books.  It  is 
hardly  possible  to  mention  a  name  famous  since 
America  was  discovered  that  is  not  here  represented 
by  an  autograph  letter  or  some  personal  relics.  Wc 
may  pass  by  such  mementos  as  the  Appomattox  table, 
a  sampler  worked  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  a  prayer-book 
of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  personal  belongings  of  Wash- 
ington, Lincoln,  and  hundreds  of  other  historical  char- 
acters, but  we  must  give  a  little  space  to  the  books 
and  manuscripts,  in  order  that  it  may  be  seen  that  all 
the  wealth  of  Chicago  is  not  in  grain  and  meat. 

It  is  only  possible  here  to  name  a  few  of  the  orig- 
inal letters,  manuscripts,  and  historical  papers  in  this 


216 


South  and  West. 


'■    I 


1  *:■ 


wonderful  collection  of  over  seventeen  thousand.  Most 
of  the  great  names  in  the  literature  of  our  era  are  rep- 
resented. There  is  an  autograph  letter  of  Moliijre,the 
only  one  known  outside  of  France,  except  one  in  the 
British  Museum;  there  are  letters  of  Voltaire,  Victor 
Hugo,  Madame  Roland,  and  other  French  writers.  It 
is  understood  that  this  is  not  a  collection  of  mere 
autographs,  but  of  letters  or  original  manuscripts  of 
those  named.  In  Germany,  nearly  all  the  great  poets 
and  writers — Goethe,  Schiller,  Uhland,  Lessing,  etc.; 
in  England,  Milton,  Pope,  Shelley,  Keats,  Wordsworth, 
Coleridge,  Cowper,  Hunt,  Gray,  etc.;  the  manuscript 
of  Byron's  "  Prometheus,"  the  " Auld  Lang  Syne  "  of 
Burns,  and  his  "Journal  in  the  Highlands;"  "Sweet 
Home"  in  the  author's  hand;  a  poem  by  Thackeray; 
manuscript  stories  of  Scott  and  Dickens.  Among  the 
Italians,  Tasso.  In  America,  the  known  authors,  al- 
most without  exception.  There  are  letters  from  near- 
ly all  the  prominent  reformers — Calvin,  Melanchthon, 
Zwingle,  Erasmus,  Savonarola  ;  a  letter  of  Luther  in 
regard  to  the  Pope's  bull ;  letters  of  prominent  lead- 
ers— William  the  Silent,  John  the  Steadfast,  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  Wallenstein.  There  is  a  curious  collection 
of  letters  of  the  saints — St.  Francis  de  Sales,  St.  Vin- 
cent de  Paul,  St.  Borromeo ;  letters  of  the  Popes  for 
three  centuries  and  a  half,  and  of  many  of  the  great 
cardinals. 

I  must  set  down  a  few  more  of  the  noted  names, 
and  that  without  much  order.  There  is  a  manuscript 
of  Charlotte  Corday  (probably  the  only  one  in  this 
country),  John  Bunyan,  Izaak  Walton,  John  Cotton, 
Michael  Angelo, Galileo, Lorenzo  the  Magnificent;  let- 
ters of  Queen  Elizabeth,  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  Mary 


Chicago. 


217 


of  England,  Anne,  several  of  Victoria  (one  at  the  age 
of  tM'clve),  Catherine  de'  Medici,  Marie  Antoinette, 
Josephine,  Mario  Louise;  letters  of  all  the  Napoleons, 
of  Frederick  the  Great,  Marat,  Robespierre,  St.  Just; 
a  letter  of  Hernando  Cortez  to  Charles  the  Fifth ;  a 
letter  of  Alverez;  letters  of  kings  of  all  European  na- 
tions, and  statesmen  and  generals  without  number. 

The  collection  is  rich  in  colonial  and  Revofutionary 
material;  original  letters  from  Plymouth  Colony,  1621, 
1622, 1623 — I  believe  the  only  ones  known ;  manuscript 
sermons  of  the  early  American  ministers;  letters  of  the 
first  bishops.  White  and  Seabury ;  letters  of  John  An- 
dre, Nathan  Hale,  Kosciusko,  Pulaski,  De  Kalb,  Steu- 
ben, and  of  great  numbers  of  the  general  and  subor- 
dinate officers  of  the  French  and  Revolutionary  wars; 
William  Tudor's  manuscript  account  of  the  battle  of 
Bunker  Hill;  a  letter  of  Aide-de-camp  Robert  Orhm 
to  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania  relating  Braddock's 
defeat;  the  original  of  Washington's  first  Tlianksgiv- 
ing  proclamation;  the  report  of  the  committee  of  the 
Continental  Congress  on  its  visit  to  Valley  Forge  on 
the  distress  of  the  army;  the  original  proceedings  of 
the  Commissioners  of  the  Colonies  at  Cambridge  for 
the  organization  of  the  Continental  army;  original  re- 
turns of  the  Hessians  captured  at  Princeton;  orderly 
books  of  the  Continental  army;  manuscripts  and  sur- 
veys of  the  early  explorers;  letters  of  Lafitte,  the  pi- 
rate, Paul  Jones,  Captain  Lawrence,  Bainbridge,  and 
so  on.  Documents  relating  to  the  Washington  fami- 
ly are  very  remarkable:  the  original  will  of  Lawrence 
Washington  bequeathing  Mount  Vernon  to  George ; 
will  of  John  Custis  to  his  family;  letters  of  Martha, 
of  Mary,  the  mother  of  George,  of  Betty  Lewis,  his 


218 


South  and  West. 


1; 


I  I 


I 


sister,  of  all  Lis  step  and  grand  children  of  the  Cus- 
tis  family. 

In  music  tliero  are  the  original  manuscript  compo- 
sitions of  all  the  leading  musicians  in  our  modern 
world,  and  there  is  a  largo  collection  of  the  choral 
books  from  ancient  monasteries  and  churches.  There 
are  exquisite  illuminated  missals  on  parchment  of  all 
periods  from  the  eighth  century.  Of  the  large  array 
of  Bibles  and  other  early  printed  books  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  speak,  except  in  a  general  way.  There  is  a 
copy  of  the  first  English  Bible,  Coverdale's,  also  of 
the  very  rare  second  Matthews,  and  of  most  of  the 
other  editions  of  the  English  Bible;  the  first  Scotch, 
Irish,  French,  Welsh,  and  German  Luther  Bibles;  the 
first  Eliot's  Indian  Bible,  of  1662,  and  the  second,  of 
1685;  the  first  American  Bibles;  the  lirst  American 
primers,  almanacs,  newspapers,  and  the  first  patent, 
issued  in  1794;  the  first  book  printed  in  Boston;  the 
first  printed  accounts  of  New  York,  Pennsylvania, 
New  Jersey,  Virginia,  South  Carolina,  Georgia;  the 
first  picture  of  New  York  City,  an  original  plan  of 
the  city  in  1700,  and  one  of  it  in  1765;  early  surveys 
of  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York ;  the  earliest 
maps  of  America,  including  the  first,  second,  and  third 
map  of  the  world  in  which  America  appears. 

Returning  to  England,  there  are  the  Shakespeare  fo- 
lio editions  of  1632  and  1685;  the  first  of  his  printed 
"Poems"  and  the  "Rape  of  Lucrece;"  an  early  quarto 
of  "Othello;"  the  first  edition  of  Ben  Jonson,  1616,  in 
which  Shakespeare's  name  appears  in  the  cast  for  a 
play ;  and  letters  from  the  Earl  of  Southampton, 
Shakespeare's  friend,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Francis 
Bacon,  and  Essex.    There  is  also  a  letter  written  by 


Chicago. 


219 


Oliver  Cromwell  wliilo  ho  was  engaged  in  the  con- 
quest of  Ireland. 

The  relics,  documents,  and  letters  illustrating  our 
civil  war  arc  constantly  being  added  to.  There  are 
many  old  engravings,  caricatures,  and  broadsides.  Of 
oil-portraits  there  are  three  originals  of  Washington, 
one  by  Stuart,  one  by  Peale,  one  by  Polk,  and  I  think 
I  remember  one  or  two  miniatures.  There  is  also  a 
])ortrait  in  oil  of  Shakespeare  which  may  become  im- 
portant. The  original  canvas  has  been  remounted,  and 
there  are  indubitable  signs  of  its  age,  although  the 
picture  can  be  traced  back  only  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years.  The  owner  hopes  to  be  able  to  prove 
that  it  is  a  contemporary  work.  The  interesting  fact 
about  it  is  that  while  it  is  not  remarkable  as  a  work 
of  art,  it  is  recognizable  at  once  as  a  likeness  of  what 
we  suppose  from  other  portraits  and  the  busts  to  bo 
the  face  and  head  of  Shakespeare,  and  yet  it  is  differ- 
ent from  all  other  pictures  we  know,  so  that  it  does 
not  suggest  itself  as  a  copy. 

The  most  important  of  Mr.  Gunther's  collection  is 
an  autograph  of  Shakespeare;  if  it  prove  to  be  genu- 
ine, it  will  be  one  of  the  four  in  the  world,  and  a  great 
possession  for  America.  This  autograph  is  pasted  on 
the  fly-leaf  of  a  folio  of  1632,  which  was  the  property 
of  one  John  Ward.  In  1839  there  was  published  in 
London,  from  manuscripts  in  possession  of  the  Med- 
ical Society,  extracts  from  the  diary  of  John  Ward 
(1648-1679),  who  was  vicar  and  doctor  at  Stratford- 
on-Avon.  It  is  to  this  diary  that  we  owe  certain  facts 
theretofore  unknown  about  Shakespeare.  The  editor, 
Mr.  Stevens,  had  this  volume  in  his  hands  while  he 
was  compiling  his  book,  and  refers  to  it  in  his  pref- 


u  \ 


It    ! 


',m 


'.:  i. 


220 


South  and  West. 


ace.  He  supposed  it  to  have  belonged  to  the  John 
AVard,  vicar,  who  kept  the  diary.  It  turns  out,  how- 
ever, to  have  been  the  property  of  John  Ward  the 
actor,  who  was  in  Stratford  in  1740,  was  an  enthusi- 
ast in  the  revival  of  Shakespeare,  and  played  Hamlet 
there  in  order  to  raise  money  to  repair  the  bust  of 
the  poet  in  the  church.  This  folio  has  the  appear- 
ance of  being  much  used.  On  the  fly-leaf  is  writing 
by  Ward  and  his  signature;  there  are  marginal  notes 
and  directions  in  his  hand,  and  several  of  the  pages 
from  which  parts  were  torn  off  have  been  repaired 
by  manuscript  text  neatly  joined. 

The  Shakespeare  signature  is  pasted  on  the  leaf 
above  Ward's  name.  The  paper  on  which  it  is  writ- 
ten is  unlike  that  of  the  book  in  texture.  The  slip 
was  pasted  on  when  the  leaf  was  not  as  brown  as  it 
is  now,  as  can  be  seen  at  one  end  where  it  is  lifted. 
The  signature  is  written  out  fairly  and  in  full,  Will- 
iam Shakspeare,  like  the  one  to  the  will,  and  differs 
from  the  two  others,  which  are  hasty  scrawls,  as  if 
the  writer  were  cramped  for  room,  or  finished  off  the 
last  syllable  with  a  flourish,  indifferent  to  the  forma- 
tion of  the  letters.  I  liad  the  opportunity  to  compare 
it  with  a  careful  tracing  of  the  signature  to  the  will 
sent  over  by  Mr.  Hallowell-Phillips.  At  first  sight 
the  two  signatures  appear  to  be  identical;  but  on  ex- 
amination they  are  not;  there  is  just  that  difference 
in  the  strokes,  spaces,  and  formation  of  the  letters 
that  always  appears  in  two  signatures  by  the  same 
hand.  One  is  not  a  copy  of  the  other,  and  the  one 
in  the  folio  had  to  me  the  unmistakable  stamp  of  gen- 
uineness. The  experts  in  handwriting  and  the  micro- 
scopists  in  this  country  who  have  examined  ink  and 


Chicago. 


221 


paper  as  to  antiquity,  I  understand,  regard  it  as  gen- 
uine. 

There  seems  to  be  all  along  the  line  no  reason  to 
suspect  forgery.  What  more  natural  than  that  John 
Ward,  the  owner  of  the  book,  and  a  Shakespeare  en- 
thusiast, should  have  enriched  his  beloved  volume 
with  an  autograph  which  he  found  somewhere  in 
Stratford?  And  in  1740  there  was  no  craze  or  con- 
troversy about  Shakespeare  to  make  the  forgery  of 
his  autograph  an  object.  And  there  is  no  suspicion 
that  the  book  has  been  doctored  for  a  market.  It 
never  was  sold  for  a  price.  It  was  found  in  Utah, 
whither  it  had  drifted  from  England  in  the  posses- 
sion of  an  emigrant,  and  ho  readily  gave  it  in  ex- 
change for  a  new  and  fresh  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
works. 

I  have  dwelt  upon  this  collection  at  some  length, 
first  because  of  its  intrinsic  value,  second  because  of 
its  importance  to  Chicago  as  a  nucleus  for  what  (I 
hope  in  connection  with  the  Newberry  Library)  will 
become  one  of  the  most  interesting  museums  in  the 
country,  and  lastly  as  an  illustration  of  what  a  West- 
ern business  man  may  do  with  his  money. 

New  York  is  the  first  and  Chicago  the  second  base 
of  operations  on  this  continent — the  second  in  point 
of  departure,  I  will  not  say  for  another  civilization, 
but  for  a  great  civilizing  and  conquering  movement, 
at  once  a  reservoir  and  distributing  point  of  energy, 
power,  and  money.  And  precisely  hero  is  to  be  fought 
out  and  settled  some  of  the  most  important  problems 
concerning  labor,  supply,  and  transportation.  Striking 
as  are  the  operations  of  merchants,  manufacturers,  and 
traders,  nothing  in  the  city  makes  a  greater  appeal  to 


222 


South  and  West. 


the  imagination  than  the  railways  that  centye  there, 
whether  we  consider  their  fif tj  asand  miles  of  track, 
the  enormous  investment  in  t  i,  or  their  competition 
for  the  carrying  trade  of  the  vast  regions  they  pierce, 
and  apparently  compel  to  be  tributary  to  the  central 
city.  The  story  of  their  building  would  read  like  a 
romance,  and  a  simple  statement  of  their  organization, 
management,  and  business  rivals  the  affairs  of  an  em- 
pire. The  present  development  of  a  belt  road  round 
the  city,  to  serve  as  a  track  of  freight  exchange  for 
all  the  lines,  like  the  transfer  grounds  between  St. 
Paul  and  Minneapolis,  is  found  to  be  an  affair  of 
great  magnitude,  as  must  needs  be  to  accommodate 
lines  of  traffic  that  represent  an  investment  in  stock 
and  bonds  of  61,305,000,000. 

As  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  describe  the  railway 
systems  of  the  West,  but  only  to  speak  of  some  of 
the  problems  involved  in  them,  it  will  suffice  to  men- 
tion two  of  the  leading  corporations.  Passing  by  the 
great  eastern  lines,  and  those  like  the  Illinois  Central, 
and  the  Chicago,  Alton,  and  St.  Louis,  and  the  Atchi- 
son, Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe,  which  are  operating  main- 
ly to  the  south  and  south-west,  and  the  Chicago,  Mil- 
waukee, and  St.  Paul,  one  of  the  greatest  corporations, 
with  a  mileage  which  had  reached  4921  December  1, 
1885,  and  has  increased  since,  we  may  name  the  Chi- 
cago and  North-western,  and  the  Chicago,  Burlington, 
and  Quincy.  Each  of  these  great  systems,  which  has 
grown  by  accretion  and  extension  and  consolidations 
of  small  roads,  operates  over  four  thousand  miles  of 
road,  leaving  out  from  the  North-western's  mileage 
that  of  the  Omaha  system,  which  it  controls.  Looked 
at  on  the  map,  each  of  these  systems  completely  occu- 


Chicago. 


223 


pies  a  vast  territory,  the  one  mainly  to  the  north  of 
the  other,  but  they  interlace  to  some  extent  and  par- 
allel each  other  in  very  important  competitions. 

The  North-western  system,  which  includes,  besides 
the  lines  that  have  its  name,  the  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis, 
and  Omaha,  the  Fremont,  Elkhorn,  and  Missouri  Val- 
ley, and  several  minor  roads,  occupies  northern  Illi- 
nois and  southern  Wisconsin,  sends  a  line  along  Lake 
Michigan  to  Lake  Superior,  with  branches,  a  line  to 
St.  Paul,  with  branches  tapping  Lake  Superior  again 
at  Bayfield  and  Duluth,  sends  another  trunk  line,  with 
branches,  into  the  far  fields  of  Dakota,  drops  down  a 
tangle  of  lines  through  Iowa  and  into  Nebraska,  sends 
another  great  line  through  northern  Nebraska  into 
Wyoming,  with  a  divergence  into  the  Black  Hills,  and 
runs  all  these  feeders  into  Chicago  by  another  trunk 
line  from  Omaha.  By  the  report  of  1887  the  gross 
earnings  of  this  system  (in  round  numbers)  were  over 
twenty-six  millions,  expenses  over  twenty  millions, leav- 
ing a  net  income  of  over  six  million  dollars.  In  these 
items  the  receipts  for  freight  were  over  nineteen  mill- 
ions, and  from  passengers  less  than  six  millions.  Not 
to  enter  into  confusing  details,  the  magnitude  of  the 
system  is  shown  in  the  general  balance-sheet  for  May, 
1887,  when  the  cost  of  road  (4101  miles),  the  sinking 
funds,  the  general  assets,  and  the  operating  assets  foot 
up  $176,048,000.  Over  3500  miles  of  this  road  are  laid 
with  steel  rails;  the  equipment  required  735  engines 
and  over  23,000  cars  of  all  sorts.  It  is  worthy  of  note 
that  .1  table  makes  the  net  earnings  of  4000  miles  of 
road,  1887,  only  a  little  more  than  those  of  3000  miles 
of  road  in  1882 — a  greater  gain  evidently  to  the  pub- 
lic than  to  the  railroad. 


w 


224 


South  and  West. 


'\ 


In  speaking  of  this  system  territorially,  I  have  in- 
cluded the  Chicago,  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Omaha, 
but  not  in  the  above  figures.  The  two  systems  have 
the  same  president,  but  different  general  managers  and 
other  officials,  and  the  reports  are  separate.  To  the 
over  4000  miles  of  the  other  North-western  lines,  there- 
fore, are  to  be  added  the  1360  miles  of  the  Omahg, 
system  (report  of  December,  1886,  since  considerably 
increased).  The  balance-sheet  of  the  Omaha  system 
(December,  1886)  shows  a  cost  of  over  fifty-seven  mill- 
ions. Its  total  net  earnings  over  operating  expenses 
and  taxes  were  about  $2,304,000.  It  then  required  an 
equipment  of  194  locomotives  and  about  6000  cars. 
These  figures  are  not,  of  course,  given  for  specific  rail- 
road information,  but  merely  to  give  a  general  idea  of 
the  magnitude  of  operations.  This  may  be  illustrated 
by  another  item.  During  the  year  for  which  the  above 
figures  have  been  given  the  entire  North-western  sys- 
tem ran  on  the  average  415  passenger  and  732  freight 
trains  each  day  through  the  year.  It  may  also  be  an 
interesting  comparison  to  say  that  all  the  railways  in 
Connecticut,  includinr^  those  that  run  into  other  States, 
have  416  locomotives,  668  passenger  cars,  and  11,502 
other  cars,  and  that  their  total  mileage  in  the  State  is 
1405  miles. 

The  Chicago,  Burlington,  and  Quincy  (report  of  De- 
cember, 1886)  was  operating  4036  miles  of  road.  Its 
only  eccentric  development  was  the  recent  Burlington 
and  Northern,  up  the  Mississippi  River  to  St.  Paul. 
Its  main  stem  from  Chicago  branches  out  over  norths 
em  and  western  Illinois,  runs  down  to  St.  Louis,  from 
thence  to  Kansas  City  by  way  of  Hannibal,  has  a 
trunk  line  to  Omaha,  criss-crosses  northern  Missouri 


Chicago. 


225 


02 
is 


om 
a 
^uri 


and  southern  Iowa,  skirts  and  pierces  Kansas,  and 
fairly  occupies  three-quarters  of  Nebraska  with  a  net- 
work of  tracks,  sending  out  lines  north  of  the  Platte, 
and  one  to  Cheyenne  and  one  to  Denver.  The  whole 
amount  of  stock  and  bonds,  December,  1886,  was  re- 
ported at  $155,920,000.  The  gross  earnings  for  1886 
were  over  twenty-six  millions  (over  nineteen  of  which 
was  for  freight  and  over  five  for  passengers),  operat- 
ing expenses  over  fourteen  millions, leaving  over  twelve 
millions  net  earnings.  The  system  that  year  paid  eight 
per  cent,  dividends  (as  it  had  done  for  a  long  series  of 
years),  leaving  over  fixed  charges  and  dividends  about 
a  million  and  a  half  to  be  carried  to  surplus  or  con- 
struction outlays.  The  equipment  for  the  year  re- 
quired 619  engines  and  over  24,000  cars.  These  fig- 
ures do  not  give  the  exact  present  condition  of  the 
road,  but  only  indicate  the  magnitude  of  its  affairs. 

Both  these  great  systems  have  been  well  managed, 
and  both  have  been,  and  continue  to  be,  great  agents 
in  developing  the  West.  Both  have  been  profitable  to 
investors.  The  comparatively  small  cost  of  building 
roads  in  the  West  and  the  profit  hitherto  have  in- 
vited capital,  and  stimulated  the  cjnstruction  of  roads 
not  absolutely  needed.  There  are  too  many  miles  of 
road  for  capitalists.  Are  there  too  many  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  public  ?  What  locality  would  be 
willing  to  surrender  its  road  ? 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  attitude  of  the 
Western  Granger  and  the  Western  Legislatures  tow- 
ards the  railways,  or  it  would  be  if  we  didn't  under- 
stand pretty  well  the  nature  of  demagogues  the  world 
over.  The  people  are  everywhere  crazy  for  roads,  for 
more  and  more  roads.  The  whole  West  we  are  con^ 
15 


i 


226 


South  and  West. 


\ 


|v   i 


sidering  is  made  by  railways.  Without  them  the  larger 
part  of  it  would  be  uninhabitable,  the  lands  of  small 
va);",  produce  useless  for  want  of  a  market.  No  rail- 
wa,\o,  no  civilization.  Year  by  year  settlements  have 
increased  in  all  regions  touched  by  railways,  land  has 
risen  in  price,  and  freight  charges  have  diminished. 
And  yet  no  sooner  do  the  people  get  the  railways 
ji-i  r  ^v.cn,  than  they  become  hostile  to  the  compa- 
nivis;  ^i("riHiy  to  railway  corporations  seems  to  be 
the  iomu>a,»t  sentiment  in  the  Western  mind,  and 
the  one  most  "c  'in-ally  invoked  by  any  political  dem- 
agogiie  >^  ^^(>  wai  -4  *o  climb  up  higher  in  elective  of- 
fice. The  roatij  a  /'{^nounced  as  "monopolies" — a 
word  getting  to  be  applied  to  any  private  persons 
who  are  successful  in  business — and  their  consolida- 
tion is  regarded  as  a  standing  menace  to  society. 

Qf  course  it  goes  without  saying  that  great  corpo- 
rations with  exceptional  privileges  are  apt  to  be  arro- 
gant, unjust,  and  grasping,  and  especially  when,  as  in 
the  case  of  railways,  they  unite  private  interests  and 
public  functions,  they  need  the  restraint  of  law  and 
careful  limitations  of  powers.  But  the  Western  situ- 
ation is  nevertheless  a  very  curious  one.  Naturally 
when  capital  takes  great  risks  it  is  entitled  to  propor- 
tionate profits;  but  profits  always  encourage  competi- 
tion, and  the  great  Western  lines  are  already  in  a  war 
for  existence  that  does  not  need  much  unfriendly  leg- 
islation to  make  fatal.  In  fact,  the  lowering  of  rates 
in  railway  wars  has  gone  on  so  rapidly  of  late  years 
that  the  most  active  Granger  Legislature  cannot  frame 
hostile  bills  fast  enough  to  keep  pace  with  it.  Con- 
solidation is  objected  to.  Yet  this  consideration  must 
not  be  lost  sight  of :  the  West  is  cut  up  by  local  roads 


Chicago. 


227 


that  could  not  be  maintained ;  they  would  not  pay  run- 
ning expenses  if  they  had  not  been  made  parts  of  a 
great  system.  Whatever  may  be  the  danger  of  the 
consolidation  system,  the  country  has  doubtless  bene- 
fited by  it. 

The  present  tendency  of  legislation,  pushed  to  its 
logical  conclusion,  is  towards  a  practical  confiscation 
of  railway  property;  that  is,  its  tendency  is  to  so  inter- 
fere with  management,  so  restrict  freedom  of  arrange- 
ment, so  reduce  rates,  that  the  companies  will  with 
difliculty  continue  operations.  The  first  effect  of  this 
will  be,  necessarily,  poorer  service  and  deteriorated 
equipments  and  tracks.  Roads  that  do  not  prosper 
cannot  keep  up  safe  lines.  Experienced  travellers 
usually  shun  those  that  are  in  the  hands  of  a  re- 
ceiver. The  Western  roads  of  which  I  speak  have 
been  noted  for  their  excellent  service  and  the  liber- 
ality towards  the  public  in  accommodations,  especial- 
ly in  fine  cars  and  matters  pertaining  to  the  comfort 
of  passengers.  Some  dining  cars  on  the  Omaha  sys- 
tem were  maintained  last  year  at  a  cost  to  the  com- 
pany of  ten.  thousand  dollars  over  receipts.  The  West- 
ern Legislatures  assume  that  because  a  railway  which 
is  thickly  strung  with  cities  can  carry  passengers  for 
two  cents  a  mile,  a  railway  running  over  an  almost 
unsettled  plain  can  carry  for  the  same  price.  They 
assume  also  that  because  railway  companies  in  a  fool- 
ish fight  for  business  cut  rates,  the  lowest  rate  they 
touch  is  a  living  one  for  them.  The  same  logic  that 
induces  Legislatures  to  fix  rates  of  transportation,  di- 
rectly or  by  means  of  a  commission,  would  lead  it  to 
set  a  price  on  meat,  wheat,  and  groceries.  Legislative 
restriction  is  one  thing;  legislative  destruction  is  an- 


M> 


228 


South  and  West 


.11,  J 


! 


Other.  There  is  a  craze  of  prohibition  and  interfer- 
ence. Iowa  has  an  attack  of  it.  In  Nebraska,  not 
only  the  Legislature  but  the  courts  have  been  so  hos- 
tile to  railway  enterprise  that  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  of  new  road  graded  last  year,  which  was  to  re- 
ceive its  rails  this  spring,  will  not  be  railed,  because  it 
is  not  safe  for  the  company  to  make  further  invest- 
ments in  that  State.  Between  the  Grangers  on  the 
one  side  and  the  labor  unions  on  the  other,  the  rail- 
ways are  in  a  tight  place.  Whatever  restrictions 
great  corporations  may  need,  the  sort  of  attack  now 
made  on  them  in  the  West  is  altogether  irrational. 
Is  it  always  made  from  public  motives?  The  legis- 
lators of  one  Western  State  had  been  accustomed  to 
receive  from  the  various  lines  that  centred  at  the 
capital  trip  passes,  in  addition  to  their  personal  an- 
nual passes.  Trip  passes  are  passes  that  the  mem- 
bers can  send  to  their  relations,  friends,  and  political 
allies  who  want  to  visit  the  capital.  One  year  the 
several  roads  agreed  that  they  would  not  issue  trip 
passes.  When  the  members  asked  the  agent  for  them 
they  were  told  that  they  were  not  ready.  As  days 
passed  and  no  trip  passes  were  ready,  hostile  and  an- 
noying bills  began  to  be  introduced  into  the  Legislat- 
ure. In  six  weeks  there  was  a  shower  of  them.  The 
roads  yielded,  and  began  to  give  out  the  passes.  Af- 
ter that,  nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  bills. 

What  the  public  have  a  right  to  complain  of  is 
the  manipulation  of  railways  in  Wall  Street  gam- 
bling. But  this  does  not  account  for  the  hostility 
to  the  corporations  which  are  developing  the  West 
by  an  extraordinary  outlay  of  money,  and  cutting 
their  own  throats  by  a  war  of  rates.     The  vast  in- 


i  ) 


Chicago. 


229 


terests  at  stake,  and  the  ignorance  of  the  relation  of 
legislation  to  the  laws  of  business,  make  the  railway 
problem  to  a  spectator  in  Chicago  one  of  absorbing 
interest. 

In  a  thorough  discussion  of  all  interests  it  must 
be  admitted  that  the  railways  have  brought  many  of 
their  troubles  upon  themselves  by  their  greedy  wars 
with  each  other,  and  perhaps  in  some  cases  by  teach- 
ing Legislatures  that  have  bettered  their  instructions, 
and  that  tyrannies  in  management  and  unjust  dis- 
criminations (such  as  the  Inter- State  Commerce  Law 
was  meant  to  stop)  have  much  to  do  in  provoking 
hostility  that  survives  many  of  its  causes. 

I  cannot  leave  Chicago  without  a  word  concerning 
the  town  of  Pullman,  although  it  has  already  been 
fully  studied  in  the  pages  of  Harper's  Monthly. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  experiments  in  the 
world.  As  it  is  only  a  little  over  seven  years  old, 
it  would  be  idle  to  prophesy  about  it,  and  I  can  only 
say  that  thus  far  many  of  the  predictions  as  to  the 
effect  of  "  paternalism "  have  not  come  true.  If  it 
shall  turn  out  that  its  only  valuable  result  is  an  "  ob- 
ject lesson  "  in  decent  and  orderly  living,  the  experi- 
ment will  not  have  been  in  vain.  It  is  to  be  remem- 
bered that  it  is  not  a  philanthropic  scheme,  but  a 
purely  business  operation,  conducted  on  the  idea  that 
comfort,  cleanliness,  and  agreeable  surroundings  con- 
duce more  to  the  prosperity  of  labor  and  of  capital 
than  the  opposites. 

Pullman  is  the  only  city  in  existence  built  from  the 
foundation  on  scientific  and  sanitary  principles,  and 
not  more  or  less  the  result  of  accident  and  variety  of 
purpose  and  incapacity.     Before  anything  else  was 


nil  ^ 


w\ 


<t 


230 


South  and  West 


V\ 


<;r 


m.^  1 


'  At 


'■'     7 


I 


done  on  the  flat  prairie,  perfect  drainage,  sewerage, 
and  water  supply  were  provided.  The  shops,  the 
houses,  the  public  buildings,  the  parks,  the  streets, 
the  recreation  grounds,  then  followed  in  intelligent 
creation.  Its  public  buildings  are  fine,  and  the  group- 
ing of  them  about  the  open  flower-planted  spaces  is 
very  effective.  It  is  a  handsome  city,  M'ith  the  single 
drawback  of  monotony  in  the  well-built  houses.  Pull- 
man is  within  the  limits  of  the  village  of  Hyde  Park, 
but  it  is  not  included  in  the  annexation  of  the  latter  to 
Chicago. 

It  is  certainly  a  pleasing  industrial  city.  The  work- 
shops are  spacious,  light,  and  well  ventilated,  perfectly 
systematized;  for  instance,  timber  goes  into  one  end 
of  the  long  car-shop  and,  without  turning  back,  comes 
out  a  freight  car  at  the  other,  the  capacity  of  the  shop 
being  one  freight  car  every  fifteen  minutes  of  the 
working  hours.  There  are  a  variety  of  industries, 
which  employ  about  4500  workmen.  Of  these  about 
600  live  outside  the  city,  and  there  are  about  1000 
workmen  who  live  in  the  city  and  work  elsewhere. 
The  company  keeps  in  order  the  streets,  parks,  lawns, 
and  shade  trees,  but  nothing  else  except  the  schools  is 
free.  The  schools  are  excellent,  and  there  are  over 
1300  children  enrolled  in  them.  The  company  has  a 
well-selected  library  of  over  6000  volumes,  containing 
many  scientific  and  art  books,  which  is  open  to  all 
residents  on  payment  of  an  annual  subscription  of 
three  dollars.  Its  use  increases  yearly,  and  study 
classes  are  formed  in  connection  with  it.  The  com- 
pany rents  shops  to  dealers,  but  it  carries  on  none  of 
its  own.  Wages  are  paid  to  employes  without  de- 
duction, except  as  to  rent,  and  the  women  appreciate 


Chicago, 


231 


a  provision  that  secures  them  a  homo  beyond  perad- 
venture.  The  competition  among  dealers  brings  prices 
to  the  Chicago  rates,  or  lower,  and  then  the  great  city 
is  easily  accessible  for  shopping.  House  rent  is  a  lit- 
tle higher  for  ordinary  workmen  than  in  Chicago,  but 
not  higher  in  proportion  to  accommodations,  and  liv- 
ing is  reckoned  a  little  cheaper.  The  reports  show 
that  the  earnings  of  operatives  exceed  those  of  other 
working  communities,  averaging  per  capita  (exclusive 
of  the  higher  pay  of  the  general  management)  $500 
a  year.  I  noticed  that  piece-wages  were  generally 
paid,  and  always  when  possible.  The  town  is  a  hive 
of  busy  workers;  employment  is  furnished  to  all  class- 
es except  the  school-children,  and  the  fine  moral  and 
physical  appearance  of  the  young  women  in  the  up- 
holstery and  other  work  rooms  would  please  a  philan- 
thropist. 

Both  the  health  and  the  morale  of  the  town  are 
exceptional;  and  the  moral  tone  of  the  workmen  has 
constantly  improved  under  the  agreeable  surround- 
ings. Those  who  prefer  the  kind  of  independence 
that  gives  them  filthy  homes  and  demoralizing  asso- 
ciations seem  to  like  to  live  elsewhere.  Pullman  has 
a  population  of  10,000.  I  do  not  know  another  city 
of  10,000  that  has  not  a  place  where  liquor  is  sold, 
nor  a  house  nor  a  professional  woman  of  ill  repute. 
With  the  restrictions  as  to  decent  living,  the  com- 
munity is  free  in  its  political  action,  its  church  and 
other  societies,  and  in  all  healthful  social  activity. 
It  has  several  ministers;  it  seems  to  require  the  serv- 
ices of  only  one  or  two  policemen ;  it  supports  four 
doctors  and  one  lawyer. 

I  know  that  any  control,  any  interference  with  in- 


\^t' 


232 


South  and  West. 


■;!l 


li'    *1 


dividual  responsibility,  is  un-American.  Our  theory 
is  that  every  person  knows  what  is  best  for  himself. 
It  is  not  true,  but  it  may  bo  safer,  in  working  out  all 

•  the  social  problems,  than  any  lessening  of  responsi- 
bility either  in  the  homo  or  in  civil  affairs.  When  I 
contrast  the  dirty  tenements,  with  contiguous  seduc- 
tions to  vice  and  idleness,  in  some  parts  of  Chicago, 
with  the  homes  of  Pullman,  I  am  glad  that  this  ex- 
periment has  been  made.  It  may  be  worth  some  sac- 
rifice to  teach  people  that  it  is  better  for  them,  morally 
and  pecuniarily,  to  live  cleanly  and  under  educational 
influences  that  increase  their  self-respect.  No  doubt 
it  is  best  that  people  should  own  their  homes,  and  that 
they  should  assume  all  the  responsibilities  of  citizen- 
ship. But  let  us  wait  the  full  evolution  of  the  Pull- 
man idea.  The  town  could  not  have  been  built  as  an 
object  lesson  in  any  other  way  than  it  was  built.  The 
hope  is  that  laboring  people  will  voluntarily  do  here- 
after what  they  have  here  been  induced  to  accept. 
The  model  city  stands  there  as  a  lesson,  the  wonderful 
creation  of  less  than  eight  years.  The  company  is 
now  preparing  to  sell  lots  on  the  west  side  of  the  rail- 
way-tracks, and  we  shall  see  what  influence  this  nu- 
cleus of  order,  cleanliness,  and  system  will  have  upon 
the  larger  community  rapidly  gathering  about  it.  Of 
course  people  should  be  free  to  go  up  or  go  down. 

'  Will  they  be  injured  by  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
how  much  pleasanter  it  is  to  go  up  than  to  go  down  ? 


XI. 

THREE  CAPITALS— SPRINGFIELD,  INDIAN- 
APOLIS,  COLUMBUS. 

To  one  travelling  over  this  vast  country,  especially 
the  northern  and  western  portions,  the  superficial  im- 
pression made  is  that  of  uniformity,  and  even  monot- 
ony: towns  are  alike,  cities  have  a  !;eneral  resem- 
blance. State  lines  are  not  recognized,  and  the  idea  of 
conformity  and  centralization  is  easily  entertained. 
Similar  institutions,  facility  of  communication,  a  dis- 
position to  stronger  nationality  we  say,  are  rapidly 
fusing  us  into  one  federal  mass. 

But  when  we  study  a  State  at  its  centre,  its  politi- 
cal action,  its  organization,  its  spirit,  the  management 
of  its  institutions  of  learning  and  of  charity,  the  ten- 
dencies, restrictive  or  liberal,  of  its  legislation,  even 
the  tone  of  social  life  and  the  code  of  manners,  we 
discover  distinctions,  individualities,  almost  as  many 
differences  as  resemblances.  And  we  see — the  saving 
truth  in  our  national  life — that  each  State  is  a  well- 
nigh  indestructible  entity,  an  empire  in  itself,  proud 
and  conscious  of  its  peculiarities,  and  jealous  of  its 
rights.  We  see  that  State  boundaries  are  not  imagi- 
nary lines,  made  by  the  geographers,  which  could  be 
easily  altered  by  the  central  power.  Nothing,  indeed, 
in  our  whole  national  development,  considering  the 
common  influences  that  have  made  us,  is  so  remark- 
able as  the  difference  of  the  several  States.    Even  on 


i 


il  1. 


», 


234 


South  and  West. 


^A 


the  lines  of  a  common  settlement,  say  from  New  Eng- 
land and  New  York,  note  the  differences  between 
northern  Ohio,  northern  Indiana,  northern  Illinois, 
Wisconsin,  and  Minnesota.  Or  take  another  line,  and 
see  the  differences  between  southern  Clilo,  southern 
Indiana,  southern  Illinois,  and  northern  Missouri.  But 
each  State,  with  its  diverse  population,  has  a  certain 
homogeneity  and  character  of  its  own.  We  can  under- 
stand this  where  there  are  great  differences  of  climate, 
or  when  one  is  mountainous  and  the  other  flat.  But 
why  should  Indiana  be  so  totally  unlike  the  two 
States  that  flank  it,  in  so  many  of  the  developments 
of  civilized  life  or  in  retarded  action  ;  and  why  should 
Iowa,  in  its  entire  temper  and  spirit,  be  so  unlike  Illi- 
nois? One  State  copies  the  institutions  of  another, 
but  there  is  always  something  in  its  life  that  it  does 
not  copy  from  any  other.  And  the  perpetuity  of  the 
Union  rests  upon  the  separateness  and  integrity  of  this 
State  life.  I  confess  that  I  am  not  so  much  impressed 
by  the  magnitude  of  our  country  as  I  am  by  the  won- 
derful system  of  our  complex  government  in  unity, 
which  permits  the  freest  development  of  human  nat- 
ure, and  the  most  perfect  adaptability  to  local  condi- 
tions. I  can  conceive  of  no  greater  enemy  to  the 
Union  than  he  who  would  by  any  attempt  at  further 
centralization  weaken  the  self-dependence,  pride,  and 
dignity  of  a  single  State.  It  seems  to  me  that  one 
travels  in  vain  over  the  United  States  if  he  does  not 
learn  that  lesson. 


The  State  of  Illinois  is  geographically  much  favored 
both  for  agriculture  and  commerce.  With  access  to 
the  Gulf  by  two  great  rivers  that  bound  it  on  two 


TJiree  Capitals. 


235 


sides,  and  communicating  with  the  Atlantic  by  Lake 
Michigan,  enterprise  has  aided  these  commercial  ad- 
vantages  by  covering  it  with  railways.  Stretching 
from  Galena  to  Cairo,  it  has  a  great  variety  of  cli- 
mate ;  it  is  well  watered  by  many  noble  streams,  and 
contains  in  its  great  area  scarcely  any  waste  land.  It 
has  its  contrasts  of  civilization.  In  the  northern  half 
arc  the  thriving  cities  ;  the  extreme  southern  portion, 
owing  in  part  to  a  more  debilitating,  less  wholesome 
climate,  and  in  part  to  a  less  virile,  ambitious  popula- 
tion, still  keeps  its  "Egyptian"  reputation.  But  the 
railways  have  already  made  a  great  change  in  southern 
Illinois,  and  education  is  transforming  it.  The  estab- 
lishment of  a  normal  school  at  Carbondale  in  1874-75 
has  changed  the  aspect  of  a  great  region.  I  am  told 
by  the  State  Superintendent  of  Education  that  the 
contrast  in  dress,  manners,  cultivation,  of  the  country 
crowd  which  came  to  witness  the  dedication  of  the  first 
building,  and  those  who  came  to  see  the  inauguration 
of  the  new  school,  twelve  years  later,  was  something 
astonishing. 

Passing  through  the  central  portion  of  the  State  to 
Springfield,  after  an  interval  of  many  years,  let  us  say 
a  generation,  I  was  impressed  with  the  transformation 
the  country  had  undergone  by  tree-planting  and  the 
growth  of  considerable  patches  of  forest.  The  State 
is  generally  prosperous.  The  farmers  have  money, 
some  surplus  to  spend  in  luxuries,  in  the  education  of 
their  children,  in  musical  instruments,  in  the  adorn- 
ment of  their  homes.  This  is  the  universal  report  of 
the  commercial  travellers,  those  modern  couriers  of 
business  and  information,  who  run  in  swarms  to  and 
fro  over  the  whole  land.    To  thera  it  is  significant — 


236 


South  and  West, 


.  J 


Mh.;,' 


their  opinion  can  gofor  what  it  is  worth — that  Illinois 
has  not  tried  the  restrictive  and  prohibitory  legislation 
of  its  western  neighbor,  Iowa,  which,  with  its  rolling 
prairies  and  park-like  timber,  loved  in  the  season  of 
birds  and  flowers,  is  one  of  the  most  fertile  and  lovely 
States  in  the  West. 

Springfield,  which  spreads  its  30,000  people  exten- 
sively over  a  plain  on  the  Sangamon  River,  is  prosper- 
ous, and  in  the  season  when  any  place  can  be  agree- 
able, a  beautiful  city.  The  elm  grows  well  in  the  rich 
soil,  and  its  many  broad,  well -shaded  streets,  with 
pretty  detached  houses  and  lawns,  make  it  very  at- 
tractive, a  delightful  rural  capital.  The  large  Illinois 
towns  are  slowly  lifting  themselves  out  of  the  slougli 
of  rich  streets,  better  adapted  to  crops  than  to  trade ; 
though  good  material  for  pavement  is  nowhere  abun- 
dant. Springfield  has  recently  improved  its  condition 
by  paving,  mostly  with  cedar  blocks,  twenty -five 
miles  of  streets.  I  notice  that  in  some  of  the  Western 
towns  tile  pavement  is  being  tried.  Manufacturing 
is  increasing — there  is  a  prosperous  rolling-mill  and  a 
successful  watch  factory — but  the  overwhelming  in- 
terest of  the  city  is  that  it  is  the  centre  of  the  politi- 
cal and  educational  institutions — of  the  life  emanating 
from  the  State-house. 

The  State-house  is,  I  believe,  famous.  It  is  a  big 
building,  a  great  deal  has  been  spent  on  it  in  the  way 
of  ornamentation,  and  it  enjoys  the  distinction  of  the 
highest  State-house  dome  in  the  country — 350  feet. 
It  has  the  merit  also  of  being  well  placed  on  an  eleva- 
tion, and  its  rooms  are  spacious  and  very  well  planned. 
It  is  an  incongruous  pile  externally,  mixing  many 
styles  of  architecture,  placing  Corinthian  capitals  on 


Three  Caj^tals, 


237 


Doric  columns,  and  generally  losing  the  impression  of 
a  dignified  mass  in  details.  "Within,  it  is  especially- 
rich  in  wall-casings  of  beautiful  and  variegated  mar- 
bles, each  panel  exquisite,  but  all  together  tending  to 
dissipate  any  idea  of  unity  of  design  or  simplicity. 
Nothing  whatever  can  be  said  for  many  of  the  scenes 
in  relief,  or  the  mural  paintings  (except  that  they  il- 
lustrate the  history  of  the  State),  nor  for  most  of  the 
statues  in  the  corridors,  but  the  decoration  of  the  chief 
rooms,  in  mingling  of  colors  and  material,  is  frankly 
barbarous. 

Illinois  has  the  reputation  of  being  slow  in  matters 
of  education  and  reform.  A  day  in  the  State  offices, 
however,  will  give  the  visitor  an  impression  of  intelli- 
gence and  vigor  in  these  directions.  The  office  of  the 
State  Board  of  Pharmacy  in  the  Capitol  shows  a  strict 
enforcement  of  the  law  in  the  supervision  of  drugs 
and  druggists.  Prison  management  has  also  most  in- 
telligent consideration.  The  two  great  penitentiaries, 
the  Southern,  at  Chester  (with  about  800  convicts), 
and  the  Northern,  at  Joliet  (with  about  1600  convicts), 
call  for  no  special  comment.  The  one  at  Joliet  is  a 
model  of  its  kind,  with  a  large  library,  and  such 
schooling  as  is  practicable  in  the  system,  and  is  well 
administered  ;  and  I  am  glad  to  see  that  Mr.  Mc- 
Claughry,  the  warden,  believes  that  incorrigibles  should 
be  permanently  held,  and  that  grading,  the  discipline 
of  labor  and  education,  with  a  parole  system,  can  make 
law-abiding  citizens  of  many  convicts. 

In  school  education  the  State  is  certainly  not  su- 
pine in  efforts.  Out  of  a  State  population  of  about 
3,500,000,  there  were,  in  1887, 1,027,841  under  twenty- 
one  years,  and  1,096,404  between  the  ages  of  six  and 


X, 


-Tfi.' 


I.;    l 


1^' 


I    ■ 


j/r 


n 


/ 


South  and  West. 


twenty-one.  The  school  age  for  free  attendance  is 
from  six  to  twenty-one  ;  for  compulsory  attendance, 
from  eight  to  fourteen.  There  were  749,994  children 
enrolled,  and  506,197  in  daily  attendance.  Those  en- 
rolled in  private  schools  numbered  87,725.  There  were 
2268  teachers  in  private  schools,  and  22,925  in  public 
-schools  ;  of  this  latter,  7462  were  men  and  15,463 
women.  The  average  monthly  salary  of  men  was 
$51.48,  and  of  women  ?^42.17.  The  sum  available  for 
school  purposes  in  1887  was  $12,896,515,  in  an  assessed 
value  of  taxable  property  of  8797,752,888.  These 
figures  are  from  Dr.  N.  W.  Edwards,  Superintendent 
of  Public  Instruction,  whose  energy  is  felt  in  every 
part  of  the  State. 

The  State  prides  itself  on  its  institutions  of  charity. 
I  saw  some  of  them  at  Jacksonville,  an  hour's  ride 
west  of  Springfield.  Jacksonville  is  a  very  pretty 
city  of  some  15,000,  with  elm-shaded  avenues  that 
suggest  but  do  not  rival  New  Haven — one  of  those 
intellectual  centres  that  are  a  continual  surprise  to 
our  English  friends  in  their  bewildered  exploration  of 
our  monotonous  land.  In  being  the  Western  centre 
of  Platonic  philosophy,  it  is  more  like  Concord  than 
like  New  Haven.  It  is  the  home  of  a  large  number  of 
people  who  have  travelled,  who  give  intelligent  atten- 
tion to  art,  to  literary  study  in  small  societies  and 
clubs — its  Monday  Evening  Club  of  men  long  ante- 
dated most  of  the  similar  institutions  at  the  East — 
and  to  social  problems.  I  certainly  did  not  expect  to 
find,  as  I  did,  water-colors  by  Turner  in  Jacksonville, 
besides  many  other  evidences  of  a  culture  that  must 
modify  many  Eastern  ideas  of  what  the  West  is  and 
is  getting  to  be. 


Three  CwpitaU. 


239 


(  .' 


The  Illinois  College  is  at  Jacksonville.  It  is  one  of 
twenty-five  small  colleges  in  the  State,  and  I  believe 
the  only  one  that  adheres  to  the  old  curriculum,  and 
does  not  adopt  co-education.  It  has  about  sixty  stu- 
dents in  the  college  proper,  and  about  one  hundred  and 
thirty  in  the  preparatory  academy.  Most  of  the  Illi- 
nois colleges  have  preparatory  departments,  and  so  long 
as  they  do,  and  the  various  sects  scatter  their  energies 
among  so  many  institutions,  the  youth  of  the  State 
who  wish  a  higher  education  will  be  obliged  to  go  East» 
The  school  perhaps  the  most  vigorous  just  now  is  the 
University  of  Illinois,  at  Urbana,  a  school  of  agricult- 
are  and  applied  science  mainly.  The  Central  Hospital 
for  the  Insane  (one  of  three  in  the  State),  under  the 
superintendence  of  Dr.  Henry  F.  Carrielj  is  a  fine  estab- 
lishment, a  model  of  neatness  and  good  management, 
with  over  nine  hundred  patients,  about  a  third  of  whom 
do  some  light  work  on  the  farm  or  in  the  house.  A 
large  conservatory  of  plants  and  flowers  is  rightly  re- 
garded as  a  remedial  agency  in  the  treatment  of  the 
patients.  Here  also  is  a  fine  school  for  the  education 
of  the  blind. 

The  Institution  for  the  Education  of  Deaf-Mutcs, 
Dr.  Philip  H.  Gillette,  superintendent,  is,  I  belies  '^,  the 
largest  in  the  world,  and  certainly  one  of  the  most 
thoroughly  equipped  and  successful  in  its  purposes. 
It  has  between  five  hundred  and  six  hundred  pupils. 
All  the  departments  found  in  many  other  institutions 
are  united  here.  The  school  has  a  manual  training 
department;  articulation  is  taught;  the  art  school  ex- 
hibits surprising  results  in  aptitude  for  both  drawing 
and  painting;  and  industries  are  taught  to  the  extent 
of  giving  every  pupil  a  trade  or  some  means  of  support 


ii  l>i''' 


li* 


i^^ 


240 


South  and  West. 


I  • 


— shoemaking,  cabinet-making,  printing,  sewing,  gar- 
dening, and  baking. 

Such  an  institution  as  this  raises  many  interesting 
questions.  It  is  at  once  evident  that  the  loss  of  the 
sense  of  hearing  has  an  effect  on  character,  moral  and 
intellectual.  Whatever  may  be  the  education  of  the 
deaf-mute,  ho  will  remain,  in  some  essential  and  not 
easily  to  be  characterized  respects,  different  from  other 
people.  It  is  exceedingly  hard  to  cultivate  in  theni  a 
spirit  of  self-dependence,  or  eradicate  the  notion  that 
society  owes  them  perpetual  care  and  support.  The 
education  of  deaf-mutes,  and  the  teaching  them  trades, 
so  that  they  become  intelligent  and  productive  mem- 
bers of  society,of  course  induce  marriages  among  them. 
Is  not  this  calculated  to  increase  the  number  of  deaf- 
mutes  ?  Dr.  Gillette  thinks  not.  The  vital  statistics 
show  that  consanguineous  marriages  are  a  large  factor 
in  deaf-muteism;  about  ten  per  cent.,  it  is  estimated, 
of  the  deaf-mutes  are  the  offspring  of  parents  related 
by  blood.  Ancestral  defects  are  not  always  perpetu- 
ated in  kind;  they  may  descend  in  physical  deformity, 
in  deafness,  in  imbecility.  Deafness  is  more  apt  to 
descend  in  collateral  branches  than  in  a  straight  line. 
It  is  a  striking  fact  in  a  table  of  relationships  prepared 
by  Dr.  Gillette  that,  while  the  450  deaf-mutes  enumer- 
ated had  110  relationships  to  other  deaf-mutes,  making 
a  total  of  1220,  only  twelve  of  them  had  deaf-mute  par- 
ents, and  only  two  of  them  one  deaf-mute  parent,  the 
mother  of  these  having  been  able  to  hear,  and  that  in 
no  case  was  the  mother  alone  a  deaf-mute.  Of  the  pu- 
pils who  have  left  this  institution,  251  have  married 
deaf-mutes,  and  19  hearing  persons.  These  marriages 
have  been  as  fruitful  as  the  average,  and  among  them 


Three  Capitals. 


241 


t  '\ 


I  pu- 
rled 
^ges 
lem 


all  only  sixteen  have  deaf-mute  children;  in  some  of 
the  families  having  a  deaf  child  there  are  other  chil- 
dren who  hear.  These  facts,  says  the  report,  clearly  in- 
dicate that  the  probability  of  deaf  offspring  from  deaf 
parentage  is  remote,  while  other  facts  may  clearly  in- 
dicate that  a  deaf  person  probably  has  or  m^U  have  a 
deaf  relation  other  than  a  child. 

Springfield  is  old  enough  to  have  a  historic  flavor 
and  social  traditions ;  perhaps  it  might  be  called  a 
Kentucky  flavor,  so  largely  did  settlers  from  Kentucky 
determine  it.  There  was  a  leisurely  element  in  it,  and 
it  produced  a  large  number  of  men  prominent  in  poli- 
tics and  in  the  law,  and  women  celebrated  for  beauty 
and  spirit.  It  was  a  hospitable  society,  with  a  certain 
tone  of  "  family  "  that  distinguished  it  from  other  fron- 
tier places,  a  great  liking  for  the  telling  of  racy  stories, 
and  a  hearty  enjoyment  of  life.  The  State  has  pro- 
vided a  Gubernatorial  residence  which  is  at  once  spa- 
cious and  pleasant,  and  is  a  mansion,  with  its  present 
occupants,  typical  in  a  way  of  the  old  regime  and  of 
modern  culture. 

To  the  country  at  large  Springfield  is  distinguished 
as  the  home  of  Abraham  Lincoln  to  an  extent  perhaps 
not  fully  realized  by  the  residents  of  the  growing  capi- 
tal, with  its  ever  new  interests.  And  I  was  perhaps 
unreasonably  disappointed  in  not  finding  that  sense  of 
Ills  personality  that  I  expected.  It  is,  indeed,  empha- 
sized by  statues  in  the  Capitol  and  by  the  great  mau- 
soleum in  the  cemetery — an  imposing  structure,  with 
an  excellent  statue  in  bronze,  and  four  groups,  relating 
to  the  civil  war,  of  uncommon  merit.  But  this  great 
monumental  show  does  not  satisfy  the  personal  long- 
ing of  whicli  I  speak.  Nor  is  the  Lincoln  residence 
10 


-  ':  .11 

.  'J 


242 


South  and  West. 


much  moro  satisfactory  in  this  respect.  The  plain 
two -story  wooden  house  has  been  presented  to  the 
State  by  his  son  Robert,  and  is  in  charge  of  a  custodian. 
And  although  the  parlor  is  made  a  show-room  and  full 
of  memorials,  there  is  no  atmosphere  of  the  man  about 
it.  On  Lincoln's  departure  for  Washington  the  furni- 
ture was  sold  and  the  house  rented,  never  to  bo  again 
occupied  by  him.  There  is  here  nothing  of  that  per- 
sonal presence  that  clings  to  the  Hermitage,  to  Marsh- 
field,  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  Monticello.  Liiicoln  was 
given  to  the  nation,  and — a  frequent  occurrence  in  our 
uprooting  business  life — the  home  disappeared.  Lin- 
coln was  honored  and  beloved  in  Springfield  as  a  man, 
but  perhaps  some  of  the  feeling  towards  him  as  a  party 
leader  still  lingers,  although  it  has  disappeared  almost 
everywhere  else  in  the  country.  Nowhere  else  was 
the  personal  partisanship  hotter  than  in  this  city,  and 
it  is  hardly  to  be  expected  that  political  foes  in  this 
generation  should  quite  comprehend  the  elevation  of 
Lincoln, in  the  consenting  opinion  of  the  world, among 
the  greatest  characters  of  all  ages.  It  has  happened 
to  Lincoln  that  every  year  and  a  more  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  his  character  have  added  to  his  fame  and  to 
the  appreciation  of  his  moral  grandeur.  There  is  a 
natural  desire  to  go  to  some  spot  pre-eminently  sacred 
to  his  personality.  This  may  be  his  birthplace.  At 
any  rate,  it  is  likely  that  before  many  years  Kentucky 
will  be  proud  to  distinguish  in  some  way  the  spot  where 
the  life  began  of  the  most  illustrious  man  born  in  ita 
borders. 


When  we  come  to  the  capital  of  Indiana  we  have, 
in  official  language,  to  report  progress.      One  reason 


Three  Capitals, 


243 


assigned  for  the  passing  of  emigrants  through  Indiana 
to  Illinois  was  that  the  latter  was  a  prairie  country, 
more  easily  subdued  than  the  more  wooded  region  of 
Indiana,  But  it  is  also  true  that  the  sluggish,  illiterato 
character  of  its  early  occupants  turned  aside  the  stream 
of  Western  emigration  from  its  borders.  There  has 
been  a  great  deal  of  philosophic  speculation  upon  the 
acknowledged  backwardness  of  civilization  in  Indiana, 
its  slow  development  in  institutions  of  education,  and 
its  slow  change  in  rural  life,  compared  with  its  sister 
States.  But  this  concerns  us  less  now  than  the  awaken- 
ing which  is  visible  at  the  capital  and  in  some  of  the 
northern  towns.  T  he  forests  of  hard  timber  which  were 
an  early  disadvantage  are  now  an  important  element 
in  the  State  industry  and  wealth.  Recent  developments 
of  coal-fields  and  the  discovery  of  natural  gas  have 
given  an  impetus  to  manufacturing,  which  will  power- 
fully stimulate  agriculture  and  traffic,  and  open  a  new 
career  to  the  State. 

Indianapolis,  which  stood  still  for  some  years  in  a 
reaction  from  real-estate  speculation,  is  now  a  rapidly 
improving  city,  with  a  population  of  about  125,000. 
It  is  on  the  natural  highway  of  the  old  National  Turn- 
pike, and  its  central  location  in  the  State,  in  the  midst 
of  a  rich  agricultural  district,  has  made  it  the  centre 
of  fifteen  railway  lines,  and  of  active  freight  and  pas- 
senger traffic.  These  lines  are  all  connected  for  freight 
purposes  by  a  belt  road,  over  which  pass  about  5000 
freight  cars  daily.  This  belt  road  also  does  an  enor- 
mous business  for  the  stock-yards,  and  its  convenient 
line  is  rapidly  filling  up  with  manufacturing  establish- 
ments. As  a  consequence  of  these  facilities  the  trade 
of  the  city  in  both  wholesale  and  retail  houses  is  good 


244 


South  and  West 


tf'l 


\\  1! 


and  increasing.  With  this  increase  of  business  there 
has  been  an  accession  of  banking  capital.  The  four 
national  and  two  private  banks  have  an  aggregate 
capital  of  about  three  millions,  and  the  Clearing-house 
report  of  1887  showed  a  business  of  about  one  hundred 
millions,  an  increase  of  nearly  fifty  per  cent,  over  the 
preceding  year.  But  the  individual  prosperity  is  large- 
ly due  to  the  building  and  loan  associations,  of  which 
there  are  nearly  one  hundred,  with  an  aggregate  capi- 
tal of  seven  millions,  the  loans  of  which  exceed  those 
of  the  banks.  These  take  the  place  of  savings-banks, 
encourage  the  purchase  of  homesteads,  and  are  pre- 
ventives of  strikes  and  labor  troubles  in  the  factories. 

The  people  of  Indianapolis  call  their  town  a  Park 
City.  Occupying  a  level  plain, its  streets  (the  principal 
ones  with  a  noble  width  of  ninety  feet)  intersect  each 
other  at  right  angles;  but  in  the  centre  of  the  city  is  a 
Circle  Park  of  several  acres,  from  which  radiate  to  the 
four  quarters  of  the  town  avenues  ninety  feet  broad 
that  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  right  lines.  These 
streets  are  for  the  most  part  well  shaded,  and  getting 
to  be  well  paved, lined  with  pleasant  but  not  ambitious 
residences,  so  that  the  whole  aspect  of  the  city  is  open 
and  agreeable.  The  best  residencos  are  with'n  a  few 
squares  of  the  most  active  business  streets,  and  if  the 
city  has  not  the  distinction  of  palaces,  it  has  fewer 
poor  and  shabby  quarters  than  most  other  towns  of  its 
size.  In  the  Circle  Park,  where  now  stands  a  statue 
of  Governor  Morton,  is  to  be  erected  immediately  the 
Soldiers'  Monument,  at  a  cost  of  $250,000. 

The  city  is  fortunate  in  its  public  buildings.  The 
County  Court-house  (which  cost  $1,600,000)  and  City 
Hall  are  both  fine  buildings;  in  the  latter  are  the  city 


t 


Three  Capitals. 


245 


markets,  and  above,  a  noble  auditorium  with  seats  for 
4000  people.  But  the  State  Capitol,  just  finished  with- 
in the  appropriation  of  $2,000,000,  is  pre-eminent  among 
State  Capitols  in  many  respects.  It  is  built  of  the  Bed- 
ford limestone,  one  of  the  best  materials  both  for  color 
and  endurance  found  in  the  country.  It  follows  the 
American  plan  of  two  wings  and  a  dome;  but  it  is  fine- 
ly proportioned;  and  the  exterior, with  rows  of  grace- 
ful Corinthian  columns  above  the  basement  story,  is 
altogether  pleasing.  The  interior  is  spacious  and  im- 
pressive, the  Chambers  fine,  the  furnishing  solid  and  in 
good  taste,  with  nowhere  any  over-ornamentation  or 
petty  details  to  mar  the  general  noble  effect.  The 
State  Library  contains,  besides  the  law-books,  about 
20,000  miscellaneous  volumes. 

When  Matthew  Arnold  first  came  to  New  York  the 
place  in  the  "West  about  which  he  expressed  the  most 
curiosity  was  Indianapolis;  that  he  said  lie  must  see,  if 
no  other  city.  He  had  no  knowledge  of  the  place,  and 
could  give  no  reason  for  his  preference  except  that  the 
name  had  always  had  a  fascination  for  him.  He  found 
there,  however,  a  very  extensive  book-store,  where  his 
own  v'orks  were  sold  in  numbers  that  pleased  and  sur- 
prised him.  The  shop  has  a  large  miscellaneous  stock, 
and  does  a  large  jobbing  and  retail  business,  but  the 
miscellaneous  books  dealt  in  are  mostly  cheap  reprints 
of  English  works,  with  very  few  American  copyright 
books.  This  is  a  significant  comment  on  the  languish- 
ing state  of  the  market  for  works  of  American  authors 
in  the  absence  of  an  international  copyright  law. 

The  city  is  not  behind  any  other  in  educational  ef- 
forts. In  its  five  free  public  libraries  are  over  TOjOOO 
volumes.    The  city  has  a  hundred  churches  and  a  vig- 


■,'X, 


>k» 


hi', 


A 


;",1 


I 


^A-\ 


246 


South  and  West. 


'!•! 


Mi 


orous  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  which  cost 
$75,000.  Its  private  schools  have  an  excellent  reputa- 
tion. There  are  20,000  children  registered  of  school 
age,  and  11,000  in  daily  attendance  in  twenty -eight 
free-school  houses.  In  methods  of  efficacy  these  are 
equal  to  any  in  the  Union,  as  is  shown  by  the  fact 
that  there  are  reported  in  the  city  only  325  persons 
between  the  ages  of  six  and  twenty-one  unable  to  read 
and  write.  The  average  cost  of  instruction  for  each 
pupil  is  $19.64  a  year.  In  regard  to  advanced  methods 
and  manual  training,  Indianapolis  schools  claim  to  be 
pioneers. 

The  latest  reports  show  educational  activity  in  the 
State  as  well  as  in  the  capital.  In  1886  the  revenues 
expended  in  public  schools  were  about  $5,000,000. 
The  State  supports  the  Indiana  University  at  Bloom- 
ington,  with  about  300  students,  the  Agricultural  Col- 
lege at  Lafayette,  with  over  300,  and  a  normal  school 
at  Terre  Haute,  with  an  attendance  of  about  500. 
There  are,  besides,  seventeen  private  colleges  and  sev- 
eral other  normal  schools.  In  1880  the  number  of 
school-children  enrolled  in  the  State  was  506,000,  of 
whom  346,000  were  in  daily  attendance.  To  those 
familiar  with  Indiana  these  figures  show  a  greatly  in- 
creased interest  in  education. 

Several  of  the  State  benevolent  in8titutiori«)  ,t' 
Indianapolis  :   a  hospital  for  the  insane,  w  coo> 

$1,200,000,  and  accommodates  1600  patients;  n  asy- 
lum for  the  blind,  which  has  132  pupils;  and  a  scho  1 
for  deaf-mutes  which  cost  $500,000,  and  has  about 
400  scholars.  The  novel  institution,  however,  that  I 
saw  at  Indianapolis  is  a  reformatory  for  women  and 
girls,  controlled  entirely  by  women.     The  board  of 


Three  Capitals. 


247 


trustees  arc  women,  the  superintendent,  physician,  and 
keepers  are  women.  In  one  building,  but  in  separate 
departments,  were  the  female  convicts,  42  in  number, 
several  of  them  respectable  -  looking  elderly  women 
who  had  killed  their  husbands,  and  about  150  young 
girls.  The  convicts  and  the  girls — who  arc  committed 
for  restraint  and  reform — never  meet  except  in  chapel, 
but  it  is  more  than  doubtful  if  it  is  wise  for  the  State 
to  subject  girls  to  even  this  sort  of  contiguity  with 
convicts,  and  to  the  degradation  of  penitentiary  sug- 
gestions. The  establishment  is  very  neat  and  well 
ordered  and  well  administered.  The  Avork  of  the  prison 
is  done  by  the  convicts,  who  are  besides  kept  employed 
at  sewing  and  in  the  laundry.  The  girls  in  the  re- 
formatory work  half  a  day,  and  arc  in  school  the  other 
half. 

This  experiment  of  the  control  of  a  State-prison  by 
women  is  regarded  as  doubtful  by  some  critics,  who 
say  that  women  will  obey  a  man  when  they  will  not 
obey  a  woman.  Female  convicts,  because  they  have 
fallen  lower  than  men,  or  by  reason  of  their  more 
nervous  organization,  are  commonly  not  so  easily  con- 
trolled as  male  convicts,  and  it  is  insisted  that  they 
indulge  in  less  "tantrums"  under  male  than  under 
female  authority.  This  is  denied  by  the  superintend- 
ent of  this  prison,  though  she  has  incorrigible  cases 
who  can  only  be  controlled  by  solitary  confinement. 
She  has  daily  religious  exercises,  Bible  reading  and 
exposition, and  a  Sunday-school;  and  she  doubts  if  she 
could  control  the  convicts  without  this  religious  influ- 
nce.  It  not  only  has  a  daily  quieting  effect,  but  has 
esulted  in  several  cases  in  "  conversion."  There  are 
in  the  institution  several  girls  and  women  of  color, 


>i' 


v>, 


f 


;!  M 


:|N    fi 


;,:  ■  '...'t 

\ 

JWii 

i|.: 

* 

\m 

■vr     I 

i|S|i 

(•»  ►;■'.; 

y 

■ 

248 


South  and  West. 


',     ii 


.'1 


and  I  asked  the  superintendent  if  the  white  inmates 
exhibited  any  prejudice  against  them  on  account  of 
their  color.  To  my  surprise,  the  answer  was  that  the 
contrary  is  the  case.  The  whites  look  up  to  the  colored 
girls,  and  seem  either  to  have  a  respect  for  them  or  to 
be  fascinated  by  them.  This  surprising  statement  was 
supplemented  by  another,  that  the  influence  of  the 
colored  girls  on  the  whites  is  not  good;  the  wliite  girl 
who  seeks  tlie  company  of  the  colored  girl  deteriorates, 
and  the  colored  girl  does  not  change. 

Indianapolis,  which  is  attractive  by  reason  of  a  cli- 
mate that  avoids  extremes, bases  its  manufacturing  and 
its  business  prosperity  upon  the  large  coal-beds  lying 
to  the  west  and  south  of  it,  the  splendid  and  very 
extensive  quarries  of  Bedford  limestone  contiguous  to 
the  coal-fields,  the  abundant  supply  of  various  sorts 
of  hard -wood  for  the  making  of  furniture,  and  the 
recent  discovery  of  natural  gas.  The  gas-field  region, 
which  is  said  to  be  very  much  larger  than  any  other 
in  the  country,  lies  to  the  north-west,  and  comes  within 
eight  miles  of  the  city.  Pipes  are  already  laid  to  the 
city  limits,  and  the  whole  heating  and  manufacturing 
of  the  city  will  soon  be  done  by  the  gas.  I  saw  this 
fuel  in  use  in  a  large  and  successful  pottery,  where  are 
made  superior  glazed  and  encaustic  tiles,  and  nothing 
could  be  better  for  the  purpose.  The  heat  in  the  kilns 
is  intense ;  it  can  be  perfectly  regulated  ;  as  fuel  the 
gas  is  free  from  smoke  and  smut,  and  its  cost  is  merely 
nominal.  The  excitement  over  this  new  agent  is  at 
present  extraordinary.  The  field  where  it  has  been 
found  is  so  extensive  as  to  make  the  supply  seem  inex- 
haustible. It  was  first  discovered  in  Indiana  at  Eaton, 
in  Delaware  County,in  1886.     From  January  1,  1887, 


Three  Capitals. 


249 


to  February,  1888,  it  is  reported  that  1000  wells  were 
opened  in  the  gas  territory,  and  that  245  companies 
were  organized  for  various  manufactures,  with  an 
aggregate  capital  of  125,000,000.  Whatever  the  fig- 
ures may  be,  there  are  the  highest  expectations  of 
immense  increase  of  manufactures  in  Indianapolis  and 
in  all  the  gas  region.  Of  some  effects  of  this  revolu- 
tion in  fuel  we  may  speak  when  we  come  to  the  gas 
wells  of  Ohio. 

I  had  conceived  of  Columbus  as  a  rural  capital, 
pleasant  and  slow,  rather  a  village  than  a  city.  I  was 
surprised  to  find  a  city  of  80,000  people,  growing  with 
a  rapidity  astonishing  even  for  a  Western  town,  Avith 
miles  of  prosperous  business  blocks  (High  Street  is 
four  miles  long),  and  wide  avenues  of  residences  ex- 
tending to  suburban  parks.  Uroad  Street,  with  its 
four  rows  of  trees  and  fine  houses  and  beautiful  lawns, 
is  one  of  the  handsomest  avenues  in  the  countrv,  and 
it  is  only  one  of  many  that  are  attractive.  The  Capi- 
tol Square,  with  several  good  buildings  about  it,  makes 
an  agreeable  centre  of  the  city.  Of  the  Capitol  build- 
incf  not  much  is  to  be  said.  The  exterior  is  not  whollv 
bad,  but  it  is  surmounted  by  a  truncated  something 
that  is  neither  a  dome  nor  a  revolving  turret,  and  the 
interior  is  badly  arranged  for  room,  light,  and  ventila- 
tion. Space  is  wasted,  and  many  of  the  rooms,  among 
them  the  relic -room  and  the  flag -room,  are  incon- 
venient and  almost  inaccessible.  The  best  is  the 
room  of  the  Supreme  Court,  whicli  has  attached  a 
large  law  library.  The  general  State  Library  con- 
tains about  54,000  volumes,  with  a  fair  but  not  large 
proportion  of  Western  history. 


^'Iii 


» /' 


vi 


'^i 


iM 


[■  f  m 


250 


South  and  West. 


U'.ii   I  I  1 


Columbus  is  a  city  of  churches,  of  very  fine  public 
schools,  of  many  clubs,  literary  and  social,  in  which 
the  intellectual  element  predominates,  and  of  an  in- 
telligent, refined,  and  most  hospitable  society.  Here 
one  may  study  the  educational  and  charitable  insti- 
tutions of  the  State,  many  of  the  more  important  of 
which  are  in  the  city,  and  also  the  politics.  It  was 
Ohio's  hard  fate  to  be  for  many  years  an  "  October 
State,"  and  the  battle-field  and  corruption -field  of 
many  outside  influences.  This  no  doubt  demoralized 
the  politics  of  the  State,  and  lowered  the  tone  of  pub- 
lic morality.  With  the  removal  of  the  cause  of  this 
decline,  I  believe  the  tone  is  being  raised.  Recent 
trials  for  election  frauds,  and  the  rehabilitation  of 
the  Cincinnati  police,  show  that  a  better  spirit  pre- 
vails. 

Ohio  is  growing  in  wealth  as  it  is  in  population, 
and  is  in  many  directions  an  ambitious  and  progress- 
ive State.  Judged  by  its  institutions  of  benevolence 
and  of  economies,  it  is  a  leading  State.  No  other 
State  provides  more  liberally  for  its  unfortunates,  in 
asylums  for  the  insane,  the  blind,  the  deaf-mutes,  the 
idiotic,  the  young  waifs  and  strays,  nor  shows  a  more 
intelligent  comprehension  of  the  legitimate  functions 
of  a  great  commonwealth,  in  the  creation  of  boards 
of  education  and  of  charities  and  of  health,  in  a  State 
inspection  of  workshops  and  factories,  in  establishing 
bureaus  of  meteorology  and  of  forestry,  a  fish  commis- 
sion, and  an  agricultural  experiment  station.  The  State 
has  thirty-four  colleges  and  universities,  a  public-school 
system  which  has  abolished  distinctions  of  color,  and 
which  by  the  reports  is  as  efiicient  as  any  in  the  Union. 
Cincinnati,the  moral  tone  of  which,the  Ohio  people  say, 


Three  Cajpitals. 


251 


in 


bate 


iis- 
tate 
lool 
land 
lion. 

3ay, 


is  not  fairly  represented  by  its  newspapers,  is  famous 
the  world  over  for  its  cultivation  in  music  and  its  prog- 
ress in  the  fine  and  industrial  arts.  It  would  be  possi- 
ble for  a  State  to  have  and  be  all  this  and  yet  rise  in 
tl)c  general  scale  of  civilization  only  to  a  splendid  me- 
diocrity, without  the  higher  institutions  of  pure  learn- 
ing, and  Avithout  a  very  high  standard  of  public  moral- 
ity. Ohio  is  in  no  less  danger  of  materialism,  Avith  all 
its  diffused  intelligence,  than  other  States.  There  is  a 
recognizable  limit  to  what  a  diffused  level  of  educa- 
tion, say  in  thirty-four  colleges,  can  do  for  the  higher 
life  of  a  State.  I  heard  an  iddress  in  the  Capitol  by 
ex -President  Hayes  on  the  expediency  of  adding  a 
manual-training  school  to  the  Ohio  State  University 
at  Columbus.  The  comment  of  some  of  the  legisla- 
tors on  it  was  that  we  have  altogether  too  much 
book-learning;  what  we  need  is  workshops  in  our 
schools  and  colleges.  It  seems  to  a  stranger  that 
whatever  first-class  industrial  and  technical  schools 
Ohio  needs,  it  needs  more  the  higher  education,  and 
the  teaching  of  philosophy,  logic,  and  ethics.  In 
1880  Governor  Foraker  sent  a  special  message  to 
the  Legislature  pointing  out  the  fact  that  notwith- 
standing the  increase  of  wealth  in  the  State,  the  rev- 
enue was  inadequate  to  the  expenditure,  i)rincipally 
by  reason  of  the  undervaluation  of  taxable  property 
(there  being  a  yearly  decline  in  the  reported  value  of 
personal  property),  and  a  fraudulent  evasion  of  taxes. 
There  must  have  been  a  wide  insensibility  to  the 
wrong  of  cheating  the  State  to  have  produced  this 
state  of  things,  and  one  cannot  but  think  that  it  went 
along  with  the  low  political  tone  before  mentioned. 
Of  course  Ohio  is  not  a  solitary  sinner  among  States 


kif 


I 


252 


South  and  West. 


-h 


(fe 


in  this  evasion  of  duty,  but  she  helps  to  point  the 
moral  that  the  higher  life  of  a  State  needs  a  great 
deal  of  education  that  is  neither  commercial  nor  in- 
dustrial nor  simply  philanthropic. 

It  is  impossible  and  unnecessary  for  the  purposes 
of  this  paper  to  speak  of  many  of  the  public  institu- 
tions of  the  State,  even  of  those  in  the  city.  But 
educators  everywhere  may  study  with  profit  the  man- 
agement of  the  public  schools  under  the  City  Board 
of  Education,  of  which  Mr.  R.  W.  Stevenson  is  super- 
intendent. The  High-school,  of  over  600  pupils,  is 
especially  to  be  commended.  Manual  training  is  not 
introduced  into  the  schools,  and  the  present  better 
sentiment  is  against  it;  but  its  foundation,  drawing, 
is  thoroughly  taught  from  the  primaries  up  to  the 
High -school,  and  the  exhibits  of  the  work  of  the 
schools  of  all  grades  in  modelling,  drawing,  and  form 
and  color  studies,  which  were  made  last  year  in  New 
York  and  Chicago,  gave  these  Columbus  schools  a 
very  high  rank  in  the  country.  Any  visitor  to  them 
must  be  impressed  with  the  intelligence  of  the  meth- 
ods employed,  the  apprehension  of  modern  notions, 
and  also  the  conservative  spirit  of  common-sense. 

The  Ohio  State  University  has  an  endowment  from 
the  State  of  over  half  a  million  dollars,  and  a  source  of 
ultimate  wealth  in  its  great  farm  and  grounds,  which 
must  increase  in  valu^  as  the  city  extends.  It  is  a  very 
well  equipped  institution  for  the  study  of  the  natural 
sciences  and  agriculture,  and  might  easily  be  built  up 
into  a  university  in  all  departments,  worthy  of  the 
State.  At  present  it  has  335  students,  of  whom  150 
are  in  the  academic  department,  41  in  special  practical 
courses,  and  143  in  the  preparatory  school.     All  the 


Three  Cajpitals. 


253 


[50 
leal 


students  are  organized  in  companies,  under  an  officer 
of  the  United  States,  for  military  discipline;  the  uni- 
form, the  drill,  the  lessons  of  order  and  obedience,  are 
invaluable  in  the  transforming  of  carriage  and  man- 
ners. The  University  has  a  museum  of  geology  which 
ranks  among  the  important  ones  of  the  country.  It  is 
a  pity  that  a  consolidation  of  other  State  institutions 
with  this  cannot  be  brought  about. 

The  Ohio  Penitentiary  at  Columbus  is  an  old  build- 
ing, not  in  keeping  with  the  modern  notions  of  prison 
construction.  In  1887  it  had  about  1300  convicts,  some 
100  less  than  in  the  preceding  year.  The  management 
is  subject  to  political  changes,  and  its  officers  have  to 
be  taken  from  various  parts  of  the  State  at  the  dicta- 
tion of  political  workers.  Under  this  system  the  best 
management  is  liable  to  be  upset  by  an  election.  The 
special  interest  in  the  prison  at  this  time  was  in  the  ob- 
servation of  the  working  of  the  Parole  Law.  Since  the 
passage  of  the  Act  in  May,1885, 283  prisoners  have  been 
paroled,  and  while  several  of  the  convicts  have  been 
returned  for  a  violation  of  parole,  nearly  the  whole 
number  are  reported  as  law-abiding  citizens.  The  man- 
agers are  exceedingly  pleased  with  the  working  of  the 
law;  it  promotes  good  conduct  in  the  i)rison,  and  re- 
duces the  number  in  confinement.  The  reduction  of 
the  number  of  convicts  in  1887  from  the  former  year 
was  ascribed  partially  to  the  passage  of  the  General 
Sentence  Law  in  1884,  and  the  Habitual  Crimes  Act 
in  1885.  The  criminals  dread  these  laws,  the  first  be- 
cause it  gives  no  fixed  time  to  build  their  hopes  upon, 
but  all  depends  upon  their  previous  record  and  good 
conduct  in  prison,  while  the  latter  affects  the  incor- 
rigible, who  are  careful  to  shun  the  State  after  be- 


V      ^-  .\  ! 


tl 


;;« < 


w 


n 


t   .'■ 


254 


South  and  West 


n 


I  H 


•ti 


■■    » 


11(1  i;r 


1 

i     ,1 

il 

If 

1 

ing  convicted  twice,  and  avoid  imprisonment  for  life. 
The  success  of  these  laws  and  the  condition  of  the 
State  finances  delay  the  work  on  the  Intermediate 
Prison,  or  Reformatory,  begun  at  Mansfield.  This 
Reformatory  is  intended  for  first  offenders,  and  has 
the  distinct  purpose  of  prevention  of  further  deterio- 
ration, and  of  reformation  by  means  of  the  discipline 
of  education  and  labor.  The  success  of  the  tentative 
laAvs  in  this  direction,  as  applied  to  the  general  pris- 
ons, is,  in  fact,  a  strong  argument  for  the  carrying  out 
of  the  Mansfield  scheme. 

There  cannot  be  a  more  interesting  study  of  the 
"  misfits "  of  humanity  than  that  offered  in  the  Insti- 
tution for  Feeble-minded  Youth,  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  Dr.  G.  A.  Doren.  Here  are  715  imbeciles 
in  all  stages  of  development  from  absolute  mental 
and  physical  incapacity.  There  is  scarcely  a  problem 
that  exists  in  education,  in  the  relation  of  the  body 
and  mind,  in  the  inheritance  of  mental  and  physical 
traits,  in  regard  to  the  responsibility  for  crime,  in 
psychology  or  physiology,  that  is  not  here  illustrated. 
It  is  the  intention  of  the  school  to  teach  the  idiot 
child  some  trade  or  occupation  that  will  make  him  to 
some  degree  useful,  and  to  carry  him  no  further  than 
the  common  branches  in  learning.  The  first  impres- 
sion, I  think,  made  upon  a  visitor  is  the  almost  in- 
variable physical  deformity  that  attends  imbecility — 
ill-proportioned,  distorted  bodies,  dwarfed,  misshapen 
gelatinoids,  with  bones  that  have  no  stiffness.  The 
next  impression  is  the  preponderance  of  the  animal 
nature,  the  persistence  of  the  lower  passions,  and  the 
absence  of  moral  qualities  in  the  general  immaturity. 
And  perhaps  the  next  impression  is  of  the  extraordi- 


Three  Capitals. 


255 


nary  effect  that  physical  training  has  in  awakening  the 
mind,  and  how  soon  the  discipline  of  the  institution 
creates  the  power  of  self-control.  From  almost  blank 
imbecility  and  utter  lack  of  self-restraint  the  majori- 
ty of  these  children,  as  we  saw  them  in  their  school- 
rooms and  workshops,  exhibited  a  sense  of  order,  of 
entire  decency,  and  very  considerable  intelligence.  It 
was  demonstrated  that  most  imbeciles  are  capable  of 
acquiring  the  rudiments  of  an  education  and  of  learn- 
ing some  useful  occupation.  Some  of  the  boys  work 
on  the  farm,  others  learn  trades.  The  boys  in  the 
shoe-sliop  wore  making  shoes  of  excellent  finish.  The 
girls  do  plain  sewing  and  house-work  apparently  al- 
most as  well  as  girls  of  their  age  outside.  Two  or 
three  things  that  we  saw  may  be  mentioned  to  show 
the  scope  of  the  very  able  management  and  the  capac- 
ities of  the  pupils.  There  was  a  drill  of  half  a  hun- 
dred boys  and  girls  in  the  dumb-bell  exercise,  to  mu- 
sic, under  the  leadership  of  a  pupil,  which  in  time, 
grace,  and  exact  execution  of  complicated  movements 
would  have  done  credit  to  any  school.  The  institu- 
tion has  two  bands,  one  of  brass  and  one  of  strings, 
which  perform  very  well.  The  string  band  played 
for  dancing  in  the  large  amusement  hall.  Several 
hundred  children  were  on  the  floor  dancing  cotillons, 
and  they  went  through  the  variety  of  changes  not 
only  in  perfect  time  and  decorum,  but  without  any 
leader  to  call  the  figures.  It  would  have  been  a  re- 
markable performance  for  any  children.  There  were 
many  individual  cases  of  great  and  deplorable  inter- 
est. Cretins,  it  was  formerly  supposed,  were  only 
born  in  mountainous  regions.  There  are  three  here 
born  in  Ohio.     There  were  five  imbeciles  of  what  I 


*  1 


^.i 


256 


South  and  West. 


\   >  :■• 


should  call  the  ape  type,  all  of  one  Ohio  family.  Two 
of  them  were  the  boys  exhibited  some  years  ago  by 
Barnum  as  the  Aztec  children — the  last  of  an  extinct 
race.  He  exhibited  them  as  a  boy  and  a  girl.  When 
they  had  grown  a  little  too  large  to  show  as  children, 
or  the  public  curiosity  was  satisfied  about  the  extinct 
race,  he  exhibited  them  as  wild  Australians. 

The  humanity  of  so  training  these  imbeciles  that 
they  can  have  some  enjoyment  of  life,  and  be  occa- 
sionally of  some  use  to  their  relations,  is  undeniable. 
But  since  the  State  makes  this  effort  in  the  survival 
of  the  unfittest,  it  must  go  further  and  provide  a  per- 
manent home  for  them.  The  girls  who  have  learned 
to  read  and  write  and  sew  and  do  house-work,  and  are 
of  decent  appearance,  as  many  of  them  are,  are  apt  to 
marry  when  they  leave  the  institution.  Their  offspring 
are  invariably  idiots.  I  saw  in  this  school  the  children 
of  mothers  who  had  been  trained  here.  It  is  no  more 
the  intention  of  the  State  to  increase  the  number  of 
imbeciles  than  it  is  the  number  of  criminals.  Many 
of  our  charitable  and  penal  institutions  at  present  do 
both. 


m 


I  should  like  to  approach  the  subject  of  Natural 
Gas  in  a  proper  spirit,  but  I  have  neither  the  imagi- 
nation nor  the  rhetoric  to  do  justice  to  the  expecta- 
tions formed  of  it.  In  the  restrained  language  of  one 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Findlay,  its  people  "have  caught 
the  divine  afflatus  which  came  with  the  discovery  of 
natural  gas."  If  Findlay  had  only  natural  gas,  "  she 
would  be  the  peer,  if  not  the  superior,  of  any  muni- 
cipality on  earth;"  but  she  has  much  more,  "and  in 
all  things  has  no  equal  or  superior  between  the  oceans 


')■' 


Three  Capitals. 


257 


ral 


of 
he 
ni- 
in 
ins 


and  the  lakes  and  the  gulf,  and  is  marching  on  to  the 
grandest  destiny  ever  prepared  for  any  people,  in  any 
land,  or  in  any  period,  since  the  morning  stars  first 
sang  together,  and  the  flowers  in  the  garden  of  Eden 
budded  and  blossomed  for  man."  In  fact,  "  this  she 
has  been  doing  in  the  past  two  years  in  the  grandest 
and  most  satisfactory  way,  and  that  she  will  continue 
to  progress  is  as  certain  as  the  stars  that  hold  their 
midnight  revel  around  the  throne  of  Omnipotence." 

Notwithstanding  this  guarded  announcement,  it  is 
evident  that  the  discovery  of  natural  gas  has  begun  a 
revolution  in  fuel,  which  will  have  permanent  and  far- 
reaching  economic  and  social  consequences,  whether 
the  supply  of  gas  is  limited  or  inexhaustible. 

Those  V  -^o  have  once  used  fuel  in  this  form  are  not 
likely  to  return  to  the  crude  and  wasteful  heating  by 
coal.  All  the  cities  and  large  towns  west  of  the  Al- 
leghanies  are  made  disagreeable  by  bituminous  coal 
smoke.  The  extent  of  this  annoyance  and  its  detrac- 
tion from  the  pleasure  of  daily  living  cannot  be  exag- 
gerated. The  atmosphere  is  more  or  less  vitiated,  and 
the  sky  obscured,  houses,  furniture,  clothing,  are  dirty, 
and  clean  linen  and  clean  hands  and  face  are  not  ex- 
pected. All  this  is  changed  where  gas  is  used  for  fuel. 
The  city  becomes  cheerful,  and  the  people  can  see  each 
other.  But  this  is  not  all.  One  of  the  great  burdens 
of  our  Northern  life,  fire  building  and  replenishing, 
disappears,  house-keeping  is  simplified,  the  expense  of 
servants  reduced,  cleanliness  restored.  Add  to  this 
that  in  the  gas  regions  the  cost  of  fuel  is  merely  nom- 
inal, and  in  towns  distant  some  thirty  or  forty  miles 
it  is  not  half  that  of  coal.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  this 
revolution  in  fuel  will  make  as  great  a  change  in  so- 

n 


V 


T,' 


f 


I 


258 


South  and  West. 


hi. 


i-  I 


t 


cial  life  as  in  manufacturing,  and  that  all  the  change 
may  not  be  agreeable.  This  natural  gas  is  a  very  sub- 
tle fluid,  somewhat  difficult  to  control,  though  I  have 
no  doubt  that  invention  will  make  it  as  safe  in  our 
houses  as  illuminating  gas  is.  So  far  as  I  Lave  seen 
its  use,  the  heat  from  it  is  intense  and  withering.  In 
a  closed  stove  it  is  intolerable;  in  an  open  grate,  with 
a  simulated  pile  of  hard  coal  or  logs,  it  is  better,  but 
much  less  agreeable  than  soft  coal  or  wood.  It  does 
not,  as  at  present  used,  promote  a  good  air  in  the  room, 
and  its  intense  dryness  ruins  the  furniture.  But  its 
cheapness,  convenience,  and  neatness  will  no  doubt 
prevail;  and  we  are  entering  upon  a  gas  age,  in  which, 
for  the  sake  of  progress,  we  shall  doubtless  surr<inder 
something  that  will  cause  us  to  look  back  to  the  more 
primitive  time  with  regret.  If  the  gas-wells  fail,  arti- 
ficial gas  for  fuel  will  doubtless  be  manufactured. 

I  went  up  to  the  gas-fields  of  northern  Ohio  in  com- 
pany with  Prof.  Edward  Orton,  the  State  Geologist, 
who  has  made  a  study  of  the  subject,  and  pretty  well 
defined  the  fields  of  Indiana  and  Ohio.  The  gas  is 
found  at  a  depth  of  between  1100  and  1200  feet,  after 
passing  through  a  great  body  of  shale  and  encounter- 
ing salt-water,  in  a  porous  Trenton  limestone.  The 
drilling  and  tubing  enter  this  limestone  several  feet  to 
get  a  good  holding.  This  porous  limestone  holds  the 
gas  like  a  sponge,  and  it  rushes  forth  with  tremendous 
force  when  released.  It  is  now  well  settled  that  these 
are  reservoirs  of  gas  that  are  tapped,  and  not  sources 
of  perpetual  supply  by  constant  manufacture.  How 
large  the  supply  may  be  in  any  case  cannot  be  told, 
but  there  is  a  limit  to  it.  It  can  be  exhausted,  like  a 
vein  of  coal.    But  the  fields  are  so  large,  both  in  Indi- 


Three  Capitals. 


259 


ana  and  Ohio,  that  it  seems  probable  that  by  sinking 
new  wells  the  supply  will  be  continued  for  a  long  time. 
The  evidence  that  it  is  not  inexhaustible  in  any  one 
well  is  that  in  all  in  which  the  flow  of  gas  has  been 
tested  at  intervals  the  force  of  pressure  is  found  to 
diminish.  For  months  after  the  discovery  the  wells 
were  allowed  to  run  to  waste,  nnd  billions  of  feet  of 
gas  were  lost.  A  better  economy  now  prevails,  and 
this  wastefulness  is  stopped.  The  wells  are  all  under 
control,  and  large  groups  of  them  are  connected  by 
common  service-pipes.  The  region  about  Fostoria  is 
organized  under  the  North-western  Gas  Company,  and 
controls  a  large  territory.  It  supplies  the  city  of  To- 
ledo, which  uses  no  other  fuel,  through  pipes  thirty 
miles  long,  Fremont,  and  other  towns.  The  loss  per 
mile  in  transit  through  the  pipes  is  now  known,  so 
that  the  distance  can  be  calculated  at  which  it  will 
pay  to  send  it.  I  believe  that  this  is  about  fifty  to 
sixty  miles.  The  gas  Avhen  it  comes  from  the  well  is 
about  the  temperature  of  32°  Fahr.,  and  the  common 
pressure  is  400  pounds  to  the  square  inch.  The  veloc- 
ity with  which  it  rushes,  unchecked,  from  the  pipe  at 
the  mouth  of  the  well  may  be  said  to  be  about  that  of 
a  mi?  ie-ball  from  an  ordinary  rifle.  The  Ohio  area 
of  gas  is  between  2000  and  3000  square  miles.  The 
claim  for  the  Indiana  area  is  that  it  is  20,000  square 
miles,  but  the  geologists  make  it  much  less. 

The  speculation  in  real  estate  caused  by  this  discov- 
ery has  been  perhaps  without  parallel  in  the  history  of 
the  State,  and,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  it  is  now  in  a 
lull, waiting  for  the  promised  developments.  But  these 
have  been  almost  as  marvellous  as  the  speculation. 
Findlay  was  a  sleepy  little  village  in  the  black  swamp 


»   |i, 


f 


Hi' 


r*;, 


If,   li 


I 


\y. 


(,  .1 


I 


1 


260 


South  a^^  West. 


district,  one  of  the  most  backward  regions  of  Ohio. 
For  many  years  there  had  been  surface  indications  of 
gas,  and  there  is  now  a  house  standing  in  the  city 
which  used  gas  for  fuel  forty  years  ago.  When  the 
first  gas-well  wiis  opened,  ten  years  ago,  the  village 
had  about  4500  inhabitants.  It  has  now  probably  15,- 
000,  it  is  a  city,  and  its  limits  have  been  extended  to 
cover  an  area  six  miles  long  by  four  miles  wide.  This 
is  dotted  over  with  hastily  built  houses,  and  is  rapidly 
being  occupied  by  manufacturing  establishments.  The 
city  owns  all  the  gas-wells,  and  supplies  fuel  to  facto- 
ries and  private  houses  at  the  simple  cost  of  maintain- 
ing the  service-pipes.  So  rapid  has  been  the  growth 
and  the  demand  for  gas  that  there  has  not  been  time 
to  put  all  the  pipes  underground,  and  they  are  encoun- 
tered on  the  surface  all  over  the  region.  The  town  is 
pervaded  by  the  odor  of  the  gas,  which  is  like  that  of 
petroleum,  and  the  traveller  is  notified  of  his  nearness 
to  the  town  by  the  smell  before  he  can  see  the  houses. 
The  surface  pipes,  hastily  laid,  occasionally  leak,  and 
at  these  weak  places  the  gas  is  generally  ignited  in 
order  to  prevent  its  tainting  the  atmosphere.  This 
immediate  neighborhood  has  an  oil -field  contiguous 
to  the  gas,  plenty  of  limestone  (the  kilns  are  burned 
by  gas),  good  building  stone,  clay  fit  for  making  bricks 
and  tiles,  and  superior  hard-wood  forests.  The  cheap 
fuel  has  already  attracted  here  manufacturing  indus- 
tries of  all  sorts,  and  new  plants  are  continually  made. 
I  have  a  list  of  over  thirty  different  mills  and  factories 
which  are  either  in  full  operation  or  getting  under  way. 
Among  the  most  interesting  of  these  are  the  works  for 
making  window-glass  and  table  glass.  The  superiority 
of  this  fuel  for  the  glass-furnaces  seems  to  be  admitted. 


Three  Capitals. 


2G1 


us- 
dc. 
•ics 
ay. 
for 
ity 
,cd. 


Although  the  wells  about  Findlay  arc  under  con- 
trol, the  tubing  is  anchored,  and  the  awful  force  is 
held  under  by  gates  and  levers  of  steel,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  escape  a  feeling  of  awe  in  this  region  at  the 
subterranean  energies  which  seem  adequate  to  blow 
the  whole  country  heaveuAvard.  Some  of  the  wells 
were  opened  for  us.  Opening  a  well  is  unscrewing 
the  service-pipe  and  letting  the  full  force  of  the  gas 
issue  from  the  pipe  at  the  mouth  of  the  well.  When 
one  of  these  wells  is  thus  opened  the  whole  town  is 
aware  of  it  by  the  roaring  and  the  quaking  of  the  air. 
The  first  one  exhibited  was  in  a  field  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  city.  At  the  first  freedom  from  the  screws 
and  clamps  the  gas  rushed  out  in  such  density  that  it 
was  visible.  Although  we  stood  several  rods  from  it, 
the  roar  was  so  great  that  one  could  not  make  him- 
self heard  shouting  in  the  ear  of  his  neighbor.  The 
geologist  stuffed  cotton  in  his  ears  and  tied  a  shawl 
about  his  head,  and,  assisted  by  the  chemist,  stood  close 
to  the  pipe  to  measure  the  flow.  The  chemist,  who  had 
not  taken  the  precaution  to  protect  himself,  was  quite 
deaf  for  some  time  after  the  experiment.  A  four-inch 
pipe,  about  sixty  feet  in  length,  was  then  screwed  on, 
and  the  gas  ignited  as  it  issued  from  the  end  on  the 
ground.  The  roaring  was  as  before.  For  several  feet 
from  the  end  of  the  tube  there  was  no  flame,  but  be- 
yond was  a  sea  of  fire  sweeping  the  ground  and  riot- 
ing high  in  the  air — billows  of  red  and  yellow  and  blue 
flame,  fierce  and  hot  enough  to  consume  everything 
within  reach.     It  was  an  awful  display  of  power. 

We  had  a  like  though  only  a  momentary  display  at 
the  famous  Karg  well,  an  eight-million-feet  well.  This 
could  only  be  turned  on  for  a  few  seconds  at  a  time, 
for  it  is  in  connection  with  the  general  system.   If  the 


'  ».: 


'  *i 


1  \ 


fe) 


II 


262 


South  and  West. 


gas  is  turned  off,  the  fires  in  houses  and  factories  would 
go  out,  and  if  it  were  turned  on  again  without  notice, 
the  rooms  would  be  full  of  gas,  and  an  explosion  follow 
an  attempt  to  relight  it.  This  danger  is  now  being  re- 
moved b^'  the  invention  of  an  automatic  valve  in  the 
pipe  supplying  each  fire, which  Avill  close  and  lock  when 
the  flow  of  gas  ceases,  and  admit  no  more  gas  until  it 
is  opened.  The  ordinary  i)ressure  for  house  service  is 
about  two  pounds  to  the  square  inch.  The  Karg  well 
is  on  the  bank  of  the  creek,  and  the  discharge-pipe 
^hrough  which  the  gas  (though  not  in  its  full  force) 
was  turned  for  our  astonishment  extends  over  the  wa- 
ter. The  roar  was  like  that  of  Niagara;  all  the  town 
shakes  when  the  Karg  is  loose.  AYlien  lighted,  billows 
of  flame  rolled  over  the  water,  brilliant  in  color  and 
fantastic  in  form,  with  a  fury  and  rage  of  conflagra- 
tion enough  to  strike  the  spectator  with  terror,  I  have 
never  sc^n  any  other  display  of  natural  force  so  im- 
pressive as  this.  When  thin  flame  issues  from  an  up- 
right pipe,  the  great  mass  of  fire  ri  l^s  eighty  feet  into 
the  air,  leaping  and  twisting  in  fiendish  iwvv.  For  six 
weeks  after  this  well  was  first  opened  its  constant  roar- 
ing shook  tlie  nerves  of  the  town,  and  by  night  its 
flaming  torch  lit  up  the  heaven  and  banished  darkness. 
With  the  aid  of  this  new  agent  anything  seems  possible. 
The  feverishness  of  speculation  will  abate;  many 
anticipations  will  not  be  realized.  It  will  be  discov- 
ered that  there  is  a  limit  to  manufacturing,  even  with 
fuel  that  costs  next  to  nothing.  The  supply  of  natural 
cas  no  doubt  has  its  defined  limits.  But  nothing  seems 
more  certain  to  me  than  that  gas,  manufactured  if  not 
natural,  is  to  be  the  fuel  of  the  future  in  the  West,  and 
that  the  importance  of  this  economic  change  in  social 
life  is  greater  than  we  can  at  present  calculate. 


XII. 
CINCINNATI  AND  LOUISVILLE. 

Cincinnati  is  a  city  that  has  a  past.  As  Daniel 
Webster  said,  that  at  least  is  secure.  Among  the 
nuny  places  that  have  been  and  are  the  Athens  of 
America,  this  was  perhaps  the  first.  As  long  ago  as 
the  first  visit  of  Charles  Dickens  to  this  country  it 
was  distinguished  as  a  town  of  refinement  as  well  as 
cultivation;  and  the  novelist, who  saw  little  to  admire, 
though  much  to  interest  him  in  our  raw  country,  was 
captivated  by  this  little  village  on  the  Ohio.  It  was 
already  the  centre  of  an  independent  intellectual  life, 
and  produced  scholars, artists,  writers,  wlio  subsequent- 
ly went  east  instead  of  west.  According  to  tradition, 
there  seems  to  have  been  early  a  tendency  to  free 
thought,  and  a  response  to  the  movement  which,  for 
lack  of  a  better  name,  was  known  in  ]\[assachusetts  as 
transcendentalism. 

The  evolution  of  Cincinnati  seems  to  have  been  a 
little  peculiar  in  American  life.  It  is  a  rich  city, 
priding  itself  on  the  solidity  of  its  individual  fortunes 
and  business,  and  the  freedom  of  its  real  i)r()perty 
from  foreign  mortgages.  Usually  in  our  develoi)ment 
the  pursuit  of  wealth  comes  first,  and  then  all  other 
things  are  added  thereto,  as  we  read  tlu  promise.  Tji 
Cincinnati  there  seems  to  have  boon  a  very  oonsider- 
ablo  oultiv  ition  first  in  time,  an«l  wo  have  tlic  -[>ectaele 
of  what  wealth  will  do  in  the  wa}  of  tlu  sophistication 


'^h 

•'•^n 

264 


South  and  West. 


Vr  n 


%i 


W, 


V. 


.W 


li  ■ 


and  materialization  of  society.  Ordinarily  we  have 
the  process  of  an  uncultivated  community  gradually 
v/orking  itself  out  into  a  more  or  less  ornamented  and 
artistic  condition  as  it  gets  money.  The  reverse  proc- 
ess we  might  see  if  the  philosophic  town  of  Concord, 
Massachusetts,  should  become  the  home  of  rich  men 
engaged  in  commerce  and  manufacturing.  I  may  be 
all  wrong  in  my  notion  of  Cincinnati,  but  there  is  a 
sort  of  tradition,  a  remaining  flavor  of  old-time  culture 
before  the  town  became  commercially  so  important 
as  it  was  before  the  war. 

It  is  difficult  to  think  of  Cincinnati  as  in  Ohio.  I 
cannot  find  their  similarity  of  traits.  Indeed,  I  think 
that  generally  in  the  State  there  is  a  feeling  that  it  is 
an  alien  city;  the  general  characteristics  of  the  State 
do  not  flow  into  and  culminate  in  Cincinnati  as  its 
metropolis.  It  has  had  somehow  an  independent  life. 
If  you  look  on  a  geologic  map  of  the  State,  you  see 
that  the  glacial  drift,  I  believe  it  is  called, which  flowed 
over  three-fourths  of  the  State  and  took  out  its  wrinkles 
did  not  advance  into  the  so.;th-west.  And  Cincinnati 
lies  in  t'lC  portion  that  was  nut  smoothed  into  a  kind 
of  monotony.  When  a  settlement  was  made  her  ^o 
was  a  good  landing-place  for  trade  up  and  down  the 
river,  and  was  probably  not  so  much  thought  of  as  a 
distributing  and  receiving  point  for  the  interior  nortli 
of  it.  Indeed,  up  to  the  time  of  the  war,  it  looked  to 
the  South  for  its  trade,  and  naturally,  oven  when  the 
line  of  war  was  drawn,  a  good  deal  of  its  sympathies 
lay  in  the  direction  of  its  trade.  It  had  become  a 
great  city,  and  grown  rich  both  in  trade  and  manu- 
factures, but  in  the  decline  of  steamboating  and  in 
the  era  of  railways  there  were  physical  difiiculti(  s  in 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


265 


the  way  of  adapting  itself  easily  to  the  new  condi- 
tions. It  was  not  easy  to  bring  the  railways  down 
the  irregular  hills  and  to  find  room  for  them  on  the 
landing.  The  city  itself  had  to  contend  with  great 
natural  obstacles  to  get  adequate  foothold,  and  its 
radiation  over,  around,  and  among  the  hills  produced 
some  novel  features  in  business  and  in  social  life. 

AYhat  Cincinnati  Avould  have  been,  with  its  early 
culture  and  its  increasing  wealth,  if  it  had  not  become 
so  largely  German  in  its  population,  we  can  only  con- 
jecture. The  German  element  was  at  once  conserva- 
tive as  to  improvements  and  liberalizing,  as  the  phrase 
is,  in  theology  and  in  life.  Bituminous  coal  and  the 
Germans  combined  to  make  a  novel  American  city. 
When  Dickens  saw  the  place  it  was  a  compact,  smiling 
little  city,  with  a  few  country  places  on  the  hills.  It 
is  now  a  scattered  city  of  country  places,  with  a  little 
nucleus  of  beclouded  business  streets.  The  traveller 
does  not  go  there  to  see  the  city,  but  to  visit  the 
suburbs,  climbing  into  them,  out  of  the  smoke  and 
grime,  by  steam  "  inclines"  and  grip  railways.  The 
city  is  indeed  difficult  to  see.  When  you  are  in  it,  by 
the  river,  you  can  see  nothing;  when  you  are  outside 
of  it  you  arc  in  any  one  of  half  a  dozen  villages,  in 
regions  of  rtarks  and  elegant  residences,  altogether 
charming  and  geogra})hically  confusing;  and  if  from 
some  commanding  point  you  try  to  recover  the  city 
idea,  you  look  down  upon  black  roofs  half  hid  in  black 
smoke,  through  which  the  fires  of  factories  gleam,  and 
where  the  colored  Ohio  rolls  majestically  along  under 
a  dark  canopy.  Looked  at  in  one  way,  the  real  C'in- 
ciimati  is  a  German  city,  and  you  can  only  study  its 
true  character  "  Over  the  Rhine,"  and  see  it  success- 


i  l! 


V  n'i 


I 


■■  ii 


iVi 

1  I  S'  1 


I 


-s '. 


266 


So'ith  and  West. 


Wi 


;!,f! 


U 


m.'. 


fully  through  the  bottom  of  an  upturned  beer  glass. 
Looked  at  another  way,  it  is  mainly  an  affair  of  elegant 
suburbs,  beautifully  wooded  hills,  pleasure-grounds, 
and  isolated  institutions  of  art  or  charity.  I  am  thank- 
ful that  there  is  no  obligation  on  me  to  depict  it. 

It  would  probably  be  described  as  a  city  of  art 
rather  than  of  leology,  and  one  of  rural  homes  rather 
than  metro-  .litan  society.  Perhaps  the  German  ele- 
ment has  bad  something  to  do  in  giving  it  its  musical 
character,  and  the  early  culture  may  have  determined 
its  set  more  towards  art  than  religion.  As  the  cloud 
of  smoke  became  thicker  and  thicker  in  the  old  city 
those  who  disliked  this  gloom  escaped  out  upon  the 
hills  in  various  directions.  Many,  of  course,  still  cling 
to  the  solid  ancestral  houses  in  the  city,  but  the  coun- 
try movement  was  so  general  that  church-going  be- 
came an  affair  of  some  difficulty,  and  I  can  imagine 
tknt  the  church -going  habit  was  a  little  broken  up 
W'hile  the  new  neighborhoods  were  forming  on  the 
hills  and  in  the  winding  valleys,  and  before  the  new 
churches  in  the  suburbs  were  erected.  Congregations 
were  scattered,  and  society  itself  was  more  or  less  dis- 
integrated. Each  suburb  is  fairly  accessible  from  the 
centre  of  the  city,  either  by  a  winding  valley  or  by  a 
bold  climb  up  a  precipice,  but  owing  to  the  configura- 
tion of  the  ground,  it  is  difficult  to  get  from  one 
suburb  to  another  without  returning  to  the  centre 
and  taking  a  fresh  start.  This  geographical  hinder- 
ance  must  necessarily  interfere  with  social  life,  and 
tend  to  isolation  of  families,  or  to  merely  neighbor- 
hood association. 

Although  mucii  yet  remains  to  be  done  in  the  way 
of  good  roads,  nature  and  art  have  combined  to  make 


.^4 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


207 


the  suburbs  of  the  city  wonderfully  beautiful.  The 
surface  is  most  picturesquely  broken,  the  forests  arc 
fine,  from  this  point  and  that  there  are  views  pleasing, 
jjoetic, distant,  perfectly  satisfying  in  form  and  variety, 
and  in  advantageous  situations  taste  has  guided  wealth 
in  the  construction  of  stately  houses,  having  ample 
space  in  the  racist  of  mariorial  parks.  You  are  not  out 
of  sight  of  these  fine  places  in  any  of  the  suburbs,  and 
there  are  besides,  in  every  direction,  miles  of  streets 
of  pleasing  homes.  I  scarcely  know  whether  to  pre- 
fer Clifton,  with  its  wide  sweeping  avenues  rounding 
the  hills,  or  the  perhaps  more  commanding  heights  of 
Walnut,  nearer  the  river,  and  overlooking  Kentucky. 
On  the  East  Walnut  Hills  is  a  private  house  worth 
going  far  to  see  for  its  color.  It  is  built  of  broken 
limestone,  the  chance  find  of  a  quarry,  making  the 
richest  walls  I  have  anywhere  seen,  comparable  to 
nothing  else  than  the  exquisite  colors  in  the  rocks  of 
the  Yellowstone  Falls,  as  I  recall  them  in  My.  Moran's 
original  studies. 

If  the  city  itself  could  substitute  gas  fuel  for  its 
smutty  coal,  I  fancy  that,  with  its  many  solid  homes 
and  stately  buildings,  backed  by  the  picturesque  hills, 
it  would  be  a  city  at  once  curious  and  attractive  to 
the  view.  The  visitor  who  ascends  from  the  river  as 
far  as  Fourth  Street  is  surprised  to  find  room  for  fair 
avenues,  and  many  streets  and  buildings  of  mark. 
Tiie  Probasco  fountain  in  another  atmosphere  would 
be  a  thing  of  beauty,  for  one  may  go  far  to  find  so 
many  groups  in  bronze  so  good.  The  I'ost-oftice 
building  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  Mullet-headed  era 
of  our  national  architecture — so  good  generally  that 
one  wonders  that  the  architect  thought  it  expedient  to 


f, 


'U 


268 


South  and  West. 


destroy  the  effect  of  the  monolith  cohimns  by  cutting 
them  to  resemble  superimposed  blocks.  A  very  re- 
markable building  also  is  the  new  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce structu'*e,  from  Richardson's  design,  massive, 
mediaeval,  challenging  attention,  and  compelling  criti- 
cism to  give  way  to  genuine  admiration.  There  are 
other  buildings,  public  and  private,  that  indicate  a 
city  of  solid  growth;  and  the  activity  of  its  strong 
Chamber  of  Commerce  is  a  guarantee  that  its  growth 
will  be  maintained  with  the  enterprise  common  to 
American  cities.  The  effort  is  to  make  manufacturing 
take  the  place  in  certain  lines  of  business  that,  as  in 
the  item  of  pork-packing,  has  been  diverted  by  vari- 
ous causes.  Money  and  effort  have  been  freely  given 
to  regain  the  Southern  trade  interrupted  by  the  war, 
and  I  am  forced  to  believe  that  the  success  in  this 
respect  would  have  been  greater  if  some  of  the  city 
newspapers  had  not  thought  it  all-important  to  manu- 
cture  political  capital  by  keeping  alive  old  antago- 
nisms and  prejudices.  Whatever  people  may  say,  senti- 
ment does  play  a  considerable  part  in  business,  and  it 
is  within  the  knowledge  of  the  writer  that  prominent 
merchants  in  at  least  one  Southern  city  have  refused 
trade  contracts  that  would  have  been  advantageous  to 
Cincinnati,  on  account  of  this  exhibition  of  partisan 
spirit,  as  if  the  war  were  not  over.  Notliing  would  be 
more  contemptible  than  to  see  a  community  selling  its 
principles  for  trade  ;  but  it  is  true  that  men  will 
trade,  other  things  being  equal,  where  they  are  met 
with  friendly  cordiality  and  toleration,  and  where 
there  is  a  spirit  of  helpfulness  instead  of  suspicion. 
Professional  politicians,  North  and  South,  may  be 
able  to  demonstrate  to  their  satisfaction  that  they 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


269 


should  have  a  chance  to  make  a  living,  but  they 
ask  too  much  when  this  shall  be  at  the  expense  of 
free-flowing  trade,  which  is  in  itself  the  best  solvent 
of  any  remaining  alienation,  and  the  surest  disintegra- 
tor of  the  objectionable  political  solidity,  and  to  the 
hinderance  of  that  entire  social  and  business  good  feel- 
ing which  is  of  all  things  desirable  and  necessary  in 
a  restored  and  compacted  Union.  And  it  is  as  bad 
political  as  it  is  bad  economic  policy.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  politicians  of  Kentucky  are  grateful  to  one 
or  two  Republican  journals  for  aid  in  keeping  their 
Stat  J  "solid."  It  is  a  pity  that  the  situation  has  its 
serious  as  well  as  its  ridiculous  aspect. 

Cincinnati  in  many  respects  is  more  an  Eastern 
than  a  Western  town ;  it  is  developing  its  own  life, 
and  so  far  as  I  could  see,  without  much  infusion  of 
young  fortune-hunting  blood  from  the  East.  It  has 
attained  its  population  of  about  275,000  by  a  slower 
growth  than  some  other  Western  cities,  and  I  notice 
in  its  statistical  reports  a  pause  rather  than  excite- 
ment since  ISTS-^D-SO.  The  valuation  of  real  and 
personal  property  has  kept  about  the  same  for  nearly 
ten  years  (1886,  real  estate  about  $129,000,000,  per- 
sonal about  $42,000,000),  with  a  falling  off  in  the  per- 
sonalty, and  a  noticeable  decrease  in  the  revenue  from 
taxation.  At  the  same  time  manufacturing  has  in- 
eruasod  considerably.  In  1880  there  was  a  capital  of 
'^60,523,350,  employing  74, 798  laborers,  witli  a  prod- 
uct of  $148,957,280.  In  1880  the  capital  was  $76,- 
248,200,  laborers  93,103,  product  $190,722,153.  The 
business  at  tlie  Post-oflice  Avas  a  little  less  in  1886 
than  in  1883.  In  the  seven  years  ending  with  1886 
there  was  a  considerable  increase  in  banking  capital. 


"n 


H, 


I 


f  •' 


u 


270 


South  and  West. 


n 


which  reached  in  the  city  proper  over  ten  millions, 
and  there  was  an  increase  in  clearings  from  1881  to 
1886. 

It  would  teach  us  nothing  to  follow  in  detail  the 
fluctuations  of  the  various  businesses  in  Cincinnati, 
either  in  appreciation  or  decline,  but  it  may  be  noted 
that  it  has  more  than  held  its  own  in  one  of  the  great 
staples — leaf  tobacco — and  still  maintains  a  leading 
position.  Yet  I  must  refer  to  one  of  the  industries 
for  the  sake  of  an  important  experiment  made  in  con- 
nection with  it.  This  is  the  experiment  of  jirofit-shar- 
ing  at  Ivorydale,  the  establishment  of  Messrs.  Procter 
and  Gamble,  now,  I  believe,  the  largest  soap  factory 
in  the  world.  The  soap  and  candle  industry  has  al- 
ways been  a  large  one  in  Cincinnati,  and  it  has  in- 
creased about  seventy-five  per  cent,  within  the  past 
two  years.  The  proprietors  at  Ivorydale  disclaim  any 
intention  of  philanthropy  in  their  new  scheme — that 
is,  the  philanthropy  that  means  giving  something  for 
nothing,  as  a  charity:  it  is  strictly  a  business  opera- 
tion. It  is  an  experiment  that  I  need  not  say  will  be 
watched  with  a  good  deal  of  intcest  as  a  means  of 
lessening  the  friction  between  the  interests  of  capital 
and  labor.  The  plan  is  this:  Three  trustees  are  named 
who  are  to  declare  the  net  profits  of  the  concern  ev- 
ery six  months;  for  this  purpose  they  are  to  have  free 
access  to  the  books  and  papers  at  all  times,  and  they 
are  to  permit  the  employes  to  designate  a  book-kec])- 
er  to  make  an  examination  for  them  also.  In  deter- 
mining  the  net  profits,  interest  on  all  capital  invested 
is  calculated  as  an  expense  at  the  rate  of  six  per  cent., 
and  a  reasonable  salary  is  allowed  to  each  member  of 
the  firm  who  gives  his  entire  time  to  the  business.    In 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


271 


order  to  share  in  the  profits,  the  employe  must  have 
been  at  work  for  three  consecutive  months,  and  must 
be  at  work  when  the  semi-annual  account  is  made  up. 
All  the  men  share  whose  wages  have  exceeded  $5  a 
week,  and  all  the  women  whose  wages  have  exceeded 
$4.25  a  week.  The  proportion  divided  to  each  employe 
is  determined  by  the  amount  of  wages  earned;  that  is, 
the  employes  shall  share  as  between  themselves  in  the 
profits  exactly  as  .ley  have  shared  in  the  entire  fund 
paid  as  wages  to  the  whole  body,  excluding  the  first 
three  months'  wages.  In  order  to  determine  the  profits 
for  distribution,  the  total  amount  of  wages  paid  to  all 
employes  (except  travelling  salesmen,  who  do  not  share) 
is  ascertained.  The  amount  of  all  expenses,  including 
interest  and  salaries,  is  ascertained,  and  the  total  net 
profits  shall  be  divided  between  the  firm  and  the  em- 
ployes sharing  in  the  fund.  The  amount  of  the  net 
profit  to  bo  distributed  will  be  that  proportion  of  the 
whole  net  profit  which  will  correspond  to  the  propor- 
tion of  the  wages  paid  as  compared  with  the  entire 
cost  of  production  and  the  expense  of  the  business. 
To  illustrate:  If  the  wages  paid  to  all  employes  shall 
equal  twenty  per  cent,  of  the  entire  expenditure  in  the 
business,  including  interest  and  salaries  of  members  of 
the  firm,  then  twenty  per  cent,  of  the  net  profit  will  be 
distributed  to  employes. 

It  will  be  noted  that  this  plan  promotes  steadiness 
in  work,  stimulates  to  industry,  and  adds  a  most  val- 
uable element  of  hopefulness  to  labor.  As  a  business 
enterprise  for  the  owners  it  is  sound,  for  it  makes 
every  workman  an  interested  party  in  increasing  the 
profits  of  the  firm — interested  not  only  in  produc- 
tion, but  in  the  marketableness  of  the  thing  pro- 


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South  and  West. 


duced.  There  have  been  two  divisions  under  this 
plan.  At  the  declaration  of  the  first  the  workmen 
had  no  confidence  in  it;  many  of  them  would  have 
sold  their  chances  for  a  glass  of  beer.  Thoy  expect- 
ed that  "  expenses "  would  make  such  a  large  figure 
that  nothing  would  be  left  to  divide.  When  they 
received,  as  the  good  workmen  did,  considerable  sums 
of  money,  life  took  on  another  aspect  to  them,  and  we 
may  suppose  that  their  confidence  in  fair  dealing  Avas 
raised.  The  experiment  of  a  year  has  been  entirely 
satisfactory;  it  has  not  only  improved  the  class  of 
employes,  but  has  introduced  into  the  establishment 
a  spirit  of  industrial  cheerfulness.  Of  course  it  is 
still  an  experiment.  So  long  as  business  is  good,  all 
will  go  well;  but  if  there  is  a  bad  six  months,  and  no 
profits,  it  is  impossible  that  suspicion  should  not  arise. 
And  there  is  another  consideration:  the  publishing  to 
the  world  that  the  business  of  six  months  was  without 
profit  might  impair  credit.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
this  openness  in  legitimate  business  may  be  conta- 
gious, and  in  the  end  promotive  of  a  wider  and  more 
stable  business  confidence.  Ivorydale  is  one  of  the 
best  and  most  solidly  built  industrial  establishments 
anywhere  to  be  found,  and  doubly  interesting  for  the 
intelligent  attempt  to  solve  the  most  difficult  problem 
in  modern  society.  The  first  semi-annual  dividend 
amounted  to  about  an  eighth  increase  of  wages.  A 
girl  who  was  earning  five  dollars  a  week  would  re- 
ceive as  dividend  about  thirty  dollars  a  year.  I  think 
it  was  not  in  my  imagination  that  the  laborers  in 
this  establishment  worked  with  more  than  usual  alac- 
rity, and  seemed  contented.  If  this  plan  shall  pre- 
vent strikes,  that  alone  will  be  as  great  a  benefit  to 


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Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


273 


the  workmen  as  to  those  who  risk  caj»ital  in  employ- 
ing them. 

Probably  to  a  stranger  the  chief  interest  of  Cin- 
cinnati is  not  in  its  business  enterprises,  great  as  they 
are,  but  in  another  life  iust  as  real  and  important,  but 
which  is  not  always  considered  in  taking  account  of 
the  prosperity  of  a  community — the  development  of 
education  and  of  the  fine  arts.  For  a  loncc  time  the 
city  has  had  an  independent  life  in  art  and  in  music. 
Whether  a  people  can  be  saved  by  art  I  do  not  know. 
The  j)endulum  is  always  swinging  backward  and  for- 
ward, and  we  seem  never  to  bo  able  to  be  enthusiastic 
in  one  direction  without  losing  something  in  another. 
The  art  of  Cincinnati  has  a  good  deal  the  air  of  being 
indigenous,  and  the  outcome  in  the  arts  of  carving  and 
design  and  in  music  has  exhibited  native  vigor.  The 
city  has  made  itself  a  reputation  for  wood-carving  and 
for  decorative  pottery.  The  Rockwood  pottery,  the 
private  enterprise  of  Mrs.  Bellamy  Storer,  is  the  only 
pottery  in  this  country  in  which  the  instinct  of  beauty 
is  paramount  to  the  desire  of  profit.  Here  for  a  series 
of  years  experiments  have  been  going  on  with  clays 
and  glazing,  in  regard  to  form  and  color,  and  in  deco- 
ration purely  for  effect,  which  have  resulted  in  pieces 
of  marvellous  interest  and  beauty.  The  effort  has  al- 
ways been  to  satisfy  a  refined  sense  rather  than  to 
cater  to  a  vicious  taste,  or  one  for  startling  effects  al- 
ready formed.  I  mean  that  the  effort  has  not  been  to 
suit  the  taste  of  the  market,  but  to  raise  that  taste. 
The  result  is  some  of  the  most  exquisite  work  in  text- 
ure and  color  anywhere  to  be  found,  and  I  was  glad  to 
learn  that  it  is  gaining  an  appreciation  which  will  not 
in  this  case  leave  virtue  to  be  its  own  reward. 
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274 


South  and  West. 


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The  various  private  attempts  at  art  expression 
have  been  consolidated  in  a  public  Museum  and  an 
Art  School,  which  are  among  the  best  planned  and 
equipped  in  the  country.  The  Museum  Building  in 
Eden  Park,  of  which  the  centre  pavilion  and  west 
wing  are  completed  (having  a  total  length  of  214 
feet  from  east  to  west),  is  in  Romanesque  style,  solid 
and  pleasing,  with  exceedingly  well -planned  exhibi- 
tion-rooms and  picture-galleries,  and  its  collections 
are  already  choice  and  interesting.  The  fund  Avas 
raised  by  the  subscriptions  of  455  persons,  and 
amounts  to  $310,501,  of  which  Mr.  Charles  R.  West 
led  off  with  the  contribution  of  $150,000,  invested  as 
a  permanent  fund.  Near  this  is  the  Art  School,  also 
a  noble  building,  the  gift  of  Mr.  David  Sinton,  who 
in  1855  gave  the  Museum  Association  $75,000  for 
this  purpose.  It  should  be  said  that  the  original  and 
liberal  endowment  of  the  Art  School  was  made  by 
Mr.  Nicholas  Longworth,  in  accordance  with  the  M'ish 
of  his  father,  and  that  the  association  also  received  a 
legacy  of  $40,000  from  Mr.  R.  R.  Springer.  Alto- 
gether the  association  has  received  considerably  over 
a  million  of  dollars,  and  has  in  addition,  by  gift  and 
purchase,  property  valued  at  nearly  /$200,000.  The 
Museum  is  the  fortunate  possessor  of  one  of  the  three 
Russian  Reproductions,  the  other  two  being  in  the 
South  Kensington  Museum  of  London  and  the  Metro- 
politan of  New  York.  Thus,  by  private  enterprise, 
in  the  true  American  way,  the  city  is  graced  and 
honored  by  art  buildings  which  give  it  distinction, 
and  has  a  school  of  art  so  well  equipped  and  con- 
ducted that  it  attracts  students  from  far  and  near, 
filling  its  departments  of  drawing,  painting,  sculpt- 


Cinciimati  and  Zouisville. 


275 


ure,  and  wood<«carving  with  eager  learners.  It  has 
over  400  scholars  in  the  various  departments.  The 
ample  endowment  fimd  makes  the  school  really  free, 
there  being  only  a  nominal  charge  of  <about  $5  a  year. 
Tn  the  collection  of  paintVugs,  which  has  several  of 
merit,  is  one  with  a  history,  which  has  a  unique  im- 
portance. This  is  B.  R.  IIaydon*s  "Public  Entry  of 
Christ  into  Jerusalem."  This  picture  of  heroic  size, 
and  in  the  grand  style  which  had  p.  great  vogue  in  its 
day,  was  finished  in  1820,  sold  for  £170  in  1831,  and 
brought  to  Philadelphia,  where  it  was  exhibited. 
The  exhibition  did  not  pay  expenses,  and  the  picture 
was  placed  in  the  Academy  as  a  companion  piece  to 
Benjamin  AVest's  "Death  on  the  Pale  Horse."  In 
the  fire  of  1845  both  canvases  were  rescued  by  being 
cut  from  the  frames  and  dragged  out  like  old  blank- 
ets. It  was  finally  given  to  the  Cathedral  in  Cincin- 
nati, where  its  existence  was  forgotten  until  it  was 
discovered  lately  and  loaned  to  the  Museum.  The 
interest  in  the  picture  now  is  mainly  an  accidental 
one,  although  it  is  a  fine  illustration  of  the  large  aca- 
demic method,  and  in  certain  details  is  painted  with 
the  greatest  care.  Ilaydon's  studio  was  the  resort  of 
English  authors  of  his  day,  and  the  portraits  of  sever- 
al of  them  are  introduced  into  this  picture.  The  face 
of  William  Ilazlitt  does  duty  as  St.  Peter ;  Words- 
worth and  Sir  Isaac  Newton  and  Voltaire  appear  as 
s])oetators  of  the  pageant — the  cynical  expression  of 
Voltaire  is  the  worldlv  contrast  to  the  believincf  faith 
of  the  disciples — and  the  inspired  face  of  the  youth- 
ful St.  John  is  that  of  John  Keats.  This  being  the 
only  portrait  of  Keats  in  life,  gives  this  picture  ex- 
traordinary interest. 


276 


South  and  West. 


lo. 


;'i 


The  spirit  of  Cincinnati,  that  is,  its  concern  for  in- 
terests not  altogether  material,  is  also  illustrated  by 
its  College  of  Music.  This  institution  was  opened  in 
1878.  It  was  endowed  by  private  subscription,  the 
largest  being  $100,000  by  Mr.  R.  R.  Springer.  It  is 
financially  very  prosperous  ;  its  possessions  in  real  es- 
tate, buildings — including  a  beautiful  concert  hall — 
and  invested  endowments  amount  to  over  $300,000. 
Its  average  attendance  is  about  550,  and  during  the 
year  1887  it  had  about  650  different  scholars.  From 
tuition  alone  about  $45,000  were  received,  and  al- 
though the  expenditures  were  liberal,  the  college  had 
at  tlie  beginning  of  1888  a  handsome  cash  balance. 
The  object  of  the  college  is  the  development  of 
native  talent,  and  to  evoke  this  the  best  foreign 
teachers  obtainable  have  been  secured.  In  the  de- 
partments of  the  voice,  the  piano,  and  the  violin, 
American  youth  are  said  to  show  special  proficien- 
cy, and  the  result  of  the  experiment  thus  far  is  to 
strengthen  the  belief  that  out  of  our  mixed  nationali- 
ty is  to  come  most  artistic  development  in  music. 
Free  admission  is  liberally  given  to  pupils  who  have 
talent  but  not  the  means  to  cultivate  it.  Recognizing 
the  value  of  broad  culture  in  musical  education,  the 
managers  have  provided  courses  of  instruction  in 
English  literature,  lectures  upon  American  authors, 
and  for  the  critical  study  of  Italian.  The  college 
proper  has  forty  teachers,  and  as  many  rooms  for  in- 
struction. Near  it,  and  connected  by  a  covered  way, 
is  the  great  Music  Hall,  with  a  seating  capacity  of 
5400,  and  the  room  to  pack  in  nearly  7000  people.  In 
this  superb  hall  the  great  annual  musical  festivals  are 
held.     It  has  a  plain  interior,  sealed  entirely  in  wood. 


Cincinnati  and  Zouisville. 


277 


and  with  almost  no  ornamentation  to  impair  its  reso- 
nance. The  courage  of  the  projectors  who  dared  to 
build  this  hall  for  a  purely  musical  purpose  and  not 
for  display  is  already  vindicated.  It  is  no  doubt  the 
best  auditorium  in  the  country.  As  age  darkens  the 
wood,  the  interior  grows  rich,  and  it  is  discovered 
that  the  effect  of  the  seasoning  of  the  wood  or  of 
the  musical  vibrations  steadily  improves  the  acoustic 
properties,  having  the  same  effect  upon  the  sonorous- 
ness of  the  wood  that  long  use  has  upon  a  good  vio- 
lin. The  whole  interior  is  a  magnificent  sounding- 
board,  if  that  is  the  proper  expression,  and  for  fifty 
years,  if  the  hall  stands,  it  will  constantly  improve, 
and  have  a  resonant  quality  unparalleled  in  any  other 
auditorium. 

The  city  has  a  number  of  clubs,  well  housed,  such 
as  are  common  to  other  cities,  and  some  that  are  pe- 
culiar. The  Cuvier  Club,  for  the  preservation  of 
game,  has  a  very  large  museum  of  birds,  animals,  and 
fishes,  beautifully  prepared  and  arranged.  The  His- 
torical and  Philosophical  Society  has  also  good  quar- 
ters, a  library  of  about  10,000  books  and  44,000  para- 
piilets,  and  is  becoming  an  important  depository  of 
historical  manuscripts.  The  Literary  Society,  com- 
posed of  100  members,  who  meet  weekly,  in  commodi- 
ous apartments,  to  hear  an  essay,  discuss  general  top- 
ics, and  pass  an  hour  socially  about  small  tables,  with 
something  to  eat  and  drink,  has  been  vigorously 
maintained  since  1848. 

An  institution  of  more  general  importance  is  the 
Free  Public  Library,  which  has  about  150,000  books 
and  18,000  pamphlets.  This  is  supported  in  part  by 
an  accumulated  fund,  but  mainly  by  a  city  tax,  which 


>«   .Xi 


I-  ^: 


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278 


South  and  West. 


is  appropriated  through  the  Boarr^  of  Education. 
The  expenditures  for  it  in  1887  were  about  $50,000. 
It  has  a  notably  fine  art  department.  The  Library  is 
excellently  managed  by  Mr.  A.  W.  Whelpley,  the  li- 
brarian, who  has  increased  its  circulation  aud  use- 
fulness by  recognizing  the  new  idea  that  a  librarian 
is  not  a  mere  custodian  of  books,  but  should  be  a 
stimulator  and  director  of  the  reading  of  a  commu- 
nity. This  office  becomes  more  and  more  important 
now  that  the  good  library  has  to  compete  for  the  at- 
tention of  the  young  with  the  "cheap  and  nasty" 
publications  of  the  day.  It  is  probably  due  some- 
what to  direction  in  reading  that  books  of  fiction 
taken  from  the  Library  last  year  were  only  fifty-one 
per  cent,  of  the  whole. 

An  institution  established  in  ma^  cities  as  a  help- 
ing hand  to  women  is  the  Womer  .  Exchange.  The 
Exchange  in  Cincinnati  is  popular  as  a  restaurant. 
Many  worthy  women  support  themselves  by  prepar- 
ing food  which  is  sold  here  over  the  counter,  or 
served  at  the  tables.  The  city  has  for  many  j  ?ars 
sustained  a  very  good  Zoological  Garden,  which  is 
much  frequented  except  in  the  winter.  Interest  in  it 
is  not,  however,  as  lively  as  it  was  formerly.  It 
seems  very  difficult  to  keep  a  "  zoo  "  up  to  the  mark 
in  America. 

I  do  not  know  that  the  public  schools  of  Cincinnati 
call  for  special  mention.  They  seem  to  be  conserva- 
tive schools,  not  differing  from  the  best  elsewhere, 
and  they  appear  to  be  trying  no  new  experiments. 
One  of  the  high-schools  which  I  saw  with  600  pupils 
is  well  conducted,  and  gives  good  preparation  for  col- 
lege.    The  city  enumeration  is  over  87,000  children 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


279 


between  the  ages  of  six  ami  twenty-one,  and  of  these 
about  36,000  are  reported  not  in  school.  Of  the  2300 
colored  children  in  the  city,  about  half  were  in  school. 
When  the  Ohio  Legislature  repealed  the  law  estab- 
lishing separate  schools  for  colored  people,  practically 
creating  mixed  schools,  a  majority  of  the  colored  par- 
ents in  the  city  petitioned  and  obtained  branch  schools 
of  their  own,  with  colored  teachers  in  charge.  The 
colored  people  everywhere  seem  to  prefer  to  be  served 
by  teachers  and  preachers  of  their  own  race. 

The  schools  of  Cincinnati  have  not  adopted  manual 
training,  but  a  Technical  School  has  been  in  existence 
about  a  year,  with  promise  of  success.  The  Cincin- 
nati University  under  the  presidency  of  Governor  Cox 
shows  new  vitality.  It  is  supported  in  part  by  taxa- 
tion, and  is  open  free  to  all  resident  youth,  so  that 
while  it  is  not  a  part  of  the  public-school  system,  it 
supplements  it. 

Cincinnati  has  had  a  great  many  discouragements 
of  late,  turbulent  politics  and  dishonorable  financial 
failures.  But,  for  all  that,  it  impresses  one  as  a  solid 
city,  with  remarkable  development  in  the  higher  civil- 
ization. 

In  its  physical  aspect  Louisville  is  in  every  respect 
a  contrast  to  Cincinnati.  Lying  on  a  plain,  sloping 
gently  up  from  the  river,  it  spreads  widely  in  rec- 
tangular uniformity  of  streets — a  city  of  broad  avenues, 
getting  to  be  well  paved  and  well  shaded,  with  ample 
spaces  in  lawns,  houses  detached,  somewhat  uniform 
in  style,  but  with  an  air  of  comfort,  occasionally  of 
elegance  and  solid  good  taste.  The  city  has  an  ex- 
ceedingly open,  friendly,  cheerful  appearance.  In  May, 


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280 


South  and  West. 


with  its  abundant  foliage  and  flowery  lawns,  it  is  a 
beautiful  city  :  a  beautiful,  healthful  city  in  a  tem- 
perate climate,  surrounded  by  a  fertile  country,  is 
Louisville.  Beyond  the  city  the  land  rises  into  a 
rolling  country  of  Blue-Grass  farms,  and  eastward 
along  the  river  are  fine  bluffs  broken  into  most  ad- 
vantageous sites  for  suburban  residences.  Looking 
northward  across  the  Ohio  are  seen  the  Indiana 
"Knobs."  In  high-water  the  river  is  a  majestic 
stream,  covering  almost  entirely  the  rocks  which  form 
the  "Falls," and  the  beds  of  "cement"  which  are  so 
profitably  worked.  The  canal,  which  makes  naviga- 
tion round  the  rapids,  has  its  mouth  at  Shipping-port 
Island.  About  this  spot  clusters  much  of  the  early 
romance  of  Louisville.  Here  are  some  of  the  old 
houses  and  the  old  mill  built  by  the  Frenchman  Ta- 
rascon  in  the  early  part  of  the  century.  Here  in  a 
weather-beaten  wooden  tenement,  still  standing,  Taras- 
con  offered  border  hospitality  to  many  distinguished 
guests ;  Aaron  Burr  and  Blennerhasset  were  among 
his  visitors,  and  General  Wilkinson,  the  projector  of 
the  canal,  then  in  command  of  the  armies  of  the 
United  States ;  and  it  was  probably  here  that  the  fa- 
mous "  Spanish  conspiracy  "  was  concocted.  Corn  Isl- 
and, below  the  rapids,  upon  which  the  first  settlement 
of  Louisville  was  made  in  1778,  disappeared  some 
years  ago,  gradually  washed  away  by  the  swift  river. 
Opposite  this  point,  in  Indiana,  is  the  village  of 
Clarksville,  which  has  a  unique  history.  About  1785 
Virginia  granted  to  Gen.  George  Rogers  Clark,  the 
most  considerable  historic  figure  of  this  region,  a 
large  tract  of  land  in  recognition  of  his  services  in  the 
war.     "When  Virginia  ceded  this  territory  to  Indiana 


!■( 


I'l! 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


281 


the  township  of  Clarksville  was  excepted  from  the 
grant.  It  had  been  organized  with  a  governing  board 
of  trustees,  self -perpetuating,  and  this  organization 
stilj  continues.  Ciarksvilio  has  therefore  never  been 
ceded  to  the  United  States,  and  if  it  is  not  an  inde- 
pendent community,  the  eminent  domain  must  slill 
rest  in  the  State  of  Virginia. 

Some  philosophers  say  that  the  character  of  a  peo- 
ple is  determined  by  climate  and  soil.  There  is  a  no- 
tion in  this  region  that  the  underlying  limestone  and 
the  consequent  succulent  Blue-Grass  produce  a  race  of 
large  men,  frank  in  manner,  brave  in  war,  inclined  to 
oratory  and  ornamental  conversation,  women  of  un- 
common beauty,  and  the  finest  horses  in  the  Union. 
Of  course  a  fertile  soil  and  good  living  conduce  to 
beauty  of  form  and  in  a  way  to  the  free  graces  of  life. 
IJut  the  contrast  of  Cincinnati  and  Louisville  in  social 
life  and  in  the  manner  of  doing  business  cannot  all  be 
accounted  for  by  Blue-Grass.  It  would  be  very  in- 
teresting, if  one  had  the  knowledge,  to  study  the 
causes  of  this  contrast  in  two  cities  not  very  far  apart. 
In  late  years  Louisville  has  awakened  to  a  new  com- 
mercial life,  as  one  finds  in  it  a  strong  infusion  of 
Western  business  energy  and  ambition.  It  is  jubilant 
in  its  growth  and  prosperity.  It  was  always  a  com- 
mercial town,  but  with  a  dash  of  Blue-Grass  leisure 
and  hospitality,  and  a  hereditary  flavor  of  manners 
and  fine  living.  Family  and  pedigree  have  always 
been  held  in  as  high  esteem  as  beauty.  The  Kcn- 
tuckian  of  society  is  a  great  contrast  to  the  Virginian, 
but  it  may  be  only  the  development  of  the  tide-water 
genth  man  in  the  freer,  wider  opportunities  of  the 
Blue-Grass  region.     The  pioneers  of  Kentucky  were 


i 


^  1 


282 


South  and  West. 


'M 


backwoodsmen,  but  many  of  the  early  settlers,  whose 
descendants  are  now  leaders  in  society  and  in  the  pro- 
fessions, came  with  the  full-blown  tastes  and  habits  of 
Virginia  civilization,  as  their  spacious  colonial  houses, 
erected  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century  and  the 
early  part  of  this,  still  attest.  They  brought  and 
planted  in  the  wilderness  a  highly  developed  social 
state,  which  was  modified  into  a  certain  freedom  by 
circumstances.  One  can  fancy  in  the  abundance  of  a 
temperate  latitude  a  certain  gayety  and  joyousncss  in 
material  existence,  which  is  contented  with  that,  and 
has  not  sought  the  art  and  musical  development  which 
one  finds  in  Cincinnati.  All  over  the  South,  Louis- 
ville is  noted  for  the  beauty  of  its  women,  but  the  oth- 
er ladies  of  the  South  say  that  they  can  always  tell 
one  from  Louisville  by  her  dress,  something  in  it  quite 
aware  of  the  advanced  fashion,  something  in  the  "cut" 
— a  mystery  known  only  to  the  feminine  eye. 

I  did  not  intend,  however,  to  enter  upon  a  disquisition 
of  the  different  types  of  civilization  in  Cincinnati  and 
in  Louisville.  One  observes  them  as  evidences  of  what 
has  heretofore  been  mentioned,  the  great  variety  in 
American  life,  when  one  looks  below  the  surface. 
The  traveller  enjoys  both  types,  and  is  rejoiced  to 
find  such  variety,  culture,  taking  in  one  city  the  form 
of  the  worship  of  beauty  and  the  enjoyment  of  life, 
and  in  the  other  greater  tendency  to  the  fine  arts. 
Louisville  is  a  city  of  churches,  of  very  considerable 
religious  activity,  and  of  pretty  stanch  orthodoxy.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say  that  what  arc  called  modern  ideas 
do  not  Itaven  its  society.  In  one  of  its  best  literary 
clubs  I  heard  the  Spencerian  philosophy  expounded 
and  advocated  with  the  enthusiasm  and  keenness  of 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


283 


an  emancipated  Eastern  town.  But  it  is  as  true  of 
Louisville  as  it  is  of  other  Southern  cities  that  tradi- 
tional faith  is  less  disturbed  by  doubts  and  isms  than 
in  many  Eastern  towns.  One  notes  here  also,  as  all 
over  the  South,  the  marked  growth  of  the  twnperance 
movement.  The  Kentuckians  believe  that  they  pro- 
duce the  best  fluid  from  rye  and  corn  in  the  Union, 
and  that  they  are  the  best  judges  of  it.  Neither  prop- 
osition will  be  disputed,  nor  will  one  trifle  with  a  le- 
gitimate pride  in  a  home  production  ;  but  tliero  is  a 
new  spirit  abroad,  and  both  Bourbon  and  the  game 
that  depends  quite  as  much  upon  the  knowledge  of 
human  nature  as  upon  the  turn  of  the  cards  are  silent- 
ly going  to  the  rear.  Always  Kentuckians  have  been 
distinguished  in  politics,  in  oratory,  in  the  professions 
of  law  and  of  medicine  ;  nor  has  the  city  ever  wanted 
scholars  in  historical  lore,  men  who  have  not  only  kept 
alive  the  traditions  of  learning  and  local  research,  like 
Col.  John  Mason  Brown,  but  have  exhibited  the  true 
antiquarian  spirit  of  Col.  II.  T.  Durrett,  whose  histori- 
cal library  is  worth  going  far  to  see  and  study.  It 
will  be  a  great  pity  if  his  exceedingly  valuable  collec- 
tion is  not  preserved  to  the  State  to  become  the  nu- 
cleus of  a  Historical  Society  worthy  of  the  State's  his- 
tory. When  I  spoke  of  art  it  was  in  a  public  sense  ; 
there  are  many  individuals  who  have  good  pictures 
and  especially  interesting  portraits,  and  in  the  early 
days  Kentucky  produced  at  least  one  artist,  Avholly 
self-taught,  who  was  a  rare  genius.  Matthew  H. 
Jouett  was  born  in  Mercer  County  in  1780,  and  died 
in  Louisville  in  1820.  In  the  course  of  his  life  he 
painted  as  many  as  three  hundred  and  fifty  portraits, 
which  are  scattered  all  over  the  Union.    In  his  ma- 


f\ 


ulaii 


>  I' 


2S4 


Soutk  and  West. 


turc  years  ho  was  for  a  time  with  Stuart  in  BoHton. 
Some  specimens  of  his  work  in  Louisville  are  wonder- 
fully fine,  recalling  the  style  and  traditions  of  the  best 
masters,  some  of  them  ecjual  if  not  superior  to  tin* 
best  by  Stuart,  and  suirujcsting  in  color  and  solidity 
the  vigor  and  grace  of  Vandyck.  lie  was  the  product 
of  no  school  but  nature  and  his  own  genius.  Louis- 
ville has  always  had  a  scholarly  and  aggressive  press, 
and  its  traditions  are  not  weakened  in  Mr.  Henry  Wat- 
tcrson.  On  the  social  side  the  good-fellowship  of  tho 
city  is  well  represented  in  the  Pendennis  Club,  which 
is  thoroughly  home-like  and  agreeable.  The  town  has 
at  least  one  book-store  of  the  first  class,  but  it  sells 
very  few  American  copyright  books.  The  city  has  no 
free  or  considerable  i)ublic  library.  The  Polytechnic 
Society,  which  has  a  room  for  lectures,  keeps  for  cir- 
culation among  subscribers  about  38,000  books.  It 
has  also  a  geological  and  mineral  collection,  and  a 
room  devoted  to  pictures,  which  contains  an  allegori- 
cal statue  by  Canova. 

In  its  public  schools  and  institutions  of  charity  the 
city  has  a  great  deal  to  show  that  is  interesting.  In 
medicine  it  has  always  been  famous.  It  has  four 
medical  colleges,  a  college  of  dentistry,  a  college  of 
pharmacy,  and  a  school  of  pharmacy  for  women.  In 
nothing,  however,  is  the  spirit  of  the  town  better  ex- 
hibited than  in  its  public-school  system.  With  a  popu- 
lation of  less  than  180,000,  the  school  enrolment,  whici> 
has  advanced  year  by  year,  was  in  1887  21,601,  Avith 
an  aggregate  belonging  of  17,392.  The  amount  ex, 
pended  on  schools,  which  was  in  1880  $197,099,  had 
increased  to  $323,943  in  1887 — a  cost  of  $18.62  per 
pupil.     Equal  provision  is  made  for  colored  schools  as 


^ 


^\ 


Cincinnati  and  Loulnvllle. 


285 


for  white,  but  thc>  number  of  colored  pupils  is  loss  than 
;1000,  aiul  the  colorutl  high-Bchool  is  small,  as  only  a 
fow  arc  yet  fitted  to  c^o  so  far  in  education.  The  ne- 
groes all  prefer  colored  teachers,  and  m)  far  as  I  could 
learn,  they  are  quite  content  with  the  present  manage- 
ment of  the  School  Board.  Co-education  is  not  in  the 
Kentucky  idea,  nor  in  its  social  scheme.  There  are 
thcrcforo  two  high-schools — one  for  girls  and  one  for 
boys — both  of  the  highest  class  ajul  etficiency,  in  ex- 
cellent buildings,  and  under  most  intelligent  manage- 
ment. Among  the  teachers  in  the  schools  are  ladies 
of  position,  and  the  schools  doubtless  owe  their  good 
character  largely  to  the  fact  that  they  are  in  the  fash- 
ion: as  a  rule,  all  the  children  of  the  city  are  educated 
in  them.  Manual  training  is  not  introduced,  but  all 
the  advanced  methods  in  the  best  modern  schools,  ob- 
ject-lessons, word-building,  moulding,  and  «lrawing,  arc 
practised.  During  the  fall  and  winter  months  there 
are  night  schools,  which  are  very  well  attended.  In 
one  of  the  intermediate  schools  I  saw  an  exercise  which 
illustrates  the  intelligent  spirit  of  the  schools.  This 
was  an  account  of  the  early  settlement,  growth,  and 
prosperity  of  Louisville,  told  in  a  series  of  very  short 
pajiers — so  many  that  a  large  number  of  the  pupils 
had  a  share  in  constructing  the  history.  Each  one 
took  up  connectively  a  brief  period  or  the  chief  events 
in  chronological  order,  with  illustrations  of  manners 
and  customs,  fashions  of  dress  and  mode  of  life.  Of 
course  this  mosaic  was  not  original,  but  made  up  of 
extracts  from  various  local  histories  and  statistical  re- 
ports. This  had  the  merit  of  being  a  good  exercise  as 
well  as  inculcating  an  intelligent  pride  in  the  city. 
Nearly  every  religious  denomination  is  represented 


..  A." 


\t 


286 


South  and  West. 


i 


Vi:- 


till 


in  tlio  142  churches  of  Louisville.  Of  these  9  are 
Northern  Presbyterian  and  7  Southern  Presbyterian, 
11  of  the  M.E.  Church  South  and  G  of  the  M.E.  Church 
North,  18  Catholic,  7  Christian,  1  Unitarian,  and  31 
colored.  'JMiere  are  seven  convents  and  monasteries, 
and  a  Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  In  propor- 
tion to  its  population,  the  city  is  pre-eminent  for  public 
and  i)rivate  charities :  there  are  no  less  than  thirty- 
eight  of  these  institutions,  providing  for  the  infirm 
and  unfortunate  of  all  ages  and  conditions.  Unique 
among  these  in  the  United  States  is  a  very  fine  build- 
ing for  the  maintenance  of  the  widows  and  orj)hans 
of  deceased  Freemasons  of  the  State  of  Kentuokv, 
supported  mainly  by  contributions  of  the  ]\Iasonic 
lodges.  One  of  the  best  equipped  and  managed  in- 
dustrial schools  of  reform  for  boys  and  girls  is  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  city.  Mr.  P.  Caldwell  is  its  superin- 
tendent, and  it  owes  its  success,  as  all  similar  schools 
do,  to  the  peculiar  fitness  of  the  manager  for  this  sort 
of  work.  The  institution  has  three  departments. 
There  were  125  white  boys  and  70  colored  boys,  oc- 
cupying separate  buildiiigs  in  the  same  enclosure,  and 
41  white  girls  in  their  own  house  in  another  enclosure. 
The  establishment  has  a  farm,  a  garden,  a  greenhouse, 
a  library  building,  a  little  chapel,  ample  and  pleasant 
play-yards.  There  is  as  little  as  possible  the  air  of  a 
prison  about  the  place,  and  as  much  as  possible  that 
of  a  homo  and  school.  The  boys  have  organized  a 
very  fair  brass  band.  The  girls  make  all  the  clothes 
for  the  establishment;  the  boys  make  shoes,  and  last 
year  earned  $8000  in  bottoming  chairs.  The  school 
is  mainly  sustained  by  ta.xation  and  city  appropria- 
tions; the  yearly  cost  is  about  $20,000.     Children  are 


iti' 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


287 


indentured  out  when  good  homes  can  bo  found  for 
them. 

The  School  for  the  Education  of  the  Blind  is  a 
State  institution,  and  admits  none  from  outside  the 
State.  The  fine  buikling  occupies  a  commanding 
situation  on  hills  not  far  from  the  river,  and  is  admi- 
rably built,  the  rooms  spacious  and  airy,  and  tlie  whole 
establishment  is  well  ordered.  There  are  only  79 
scholars,  and  the  few  colored  are  accommodated  by 
themselves  in  a  separate  building,  in  accordance  Avith 
an  Act  of  the  Legislature  in  1884  for  the  education  of 
colored  blind  children.  The  distinction  of  this  institu- 
tion is  that  it  lias  on  its  premises  the  United  States 
printing-office  for  furnishing  publications  for  the  blind 
asylums  of  the  country.  Printing  is  done  here  both 
in  letters  and  in  points,  by  very  ingenious  ju'ocesses, 
and  the  library  is  already  considerable.  The  space 
required  to  store  a  library  of  books  for  the  blind  may 
be  reckoned  from  the  statement  that  the  novel  of  "  Ivan- 
hoc"occupies  three  volumes,eacii  larger  than  Webster's 
Unabridged  Dictionary.  The  weekly  Snnihuj-sehool 
Times  is  printed  here.  The  point  writing  consists 
entirely  of  dots  in  certain  combinations  to  represent 
letters,  and  it  is  noticed  that  about  half  the  children 
prefer  this  to  the  alphabet.  The  preference  is  not  ex- 
plained by  saying  that  it  is  merely  a  matter  of  feeling. 

The  city  has  as  yet  no  public  parks,  but  the  very 
broad  streets — from  sixty  to  one  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  in  width — the  wide  spacing  of  the  houses  in  the  resi- 
dence parts,  and  the  abundant  shade  make  them  less  a 
necessity  than  olsewhere.  The  t;ity  spreads  very  free- 
ly and  openly  over  the  plain,  and  short  drives  take 
one  into  lovely  Blue-Grass  country.     A  few  miles  out 


ill 


•i  1 

^^         n 

1  1 

'     1 

H 

, 


1. 


w 


i 


\*.\ 


■■■!  !'l 


i  H 


r  I 


288 


South  and  West. 


n 


VW' 


on  Churchill  Downs  is  the  famous  Jockey  Club  Park, 
a  perfect  racing  track  and  establishment,  where  world- 
wide reputations  are  made  at  the  semi-annual  meet- 
ings. The  limestone  region,  a  beautifully  rolling  coun- 
try, almost  rivals  the  Lexington  plantations  in  the 
raising  of  fine  horses.  Driving  out  to  one  of  these 
farms  one  day,  we  passed,  not  far  from  the  river,  the 
old  Taylor  mansion  and  the  tomb  of  Zachary  Taylor. 
It  is  in  the  reserved  family  burying-ground,  where  lie 
also  the  remains  of  Richard  Taylor,  of  Revolutionary 
memory.  The  great  tomb  and  the  graves  are  overrun 
thickly  with  myrtle,  and  the  secluded  irregular  ground 
is  shaded  by  forest-trees.  The  soft  wind  of  spring 
AVdS  blowing  sweetly  over  the  fresh  green  fields,  and 
there  was  about  the  })lace  an  air  of  repose  and  dignity 
most  refreshing  to  the  spirit.  Near  the  tomb  stands 
the  fine  commemorative  shaft  bearing  on  its  summit 
a  good  portrait  statue  of  the  hero  of  Buena  Vista.  I 
liked  to  linger  there,  the  country  was  so  sweet;  the 
great  river  flowing  in  sight  lent  a  certain  grandeur  to 
the  resting-place,  and  I  thought  how  dignified  and  fit 
it  was  for  a  President  to  be  buried  at  his  home. 

The  city  of  Louisville  in  1888  has  the  nnmistakable 
air  of  confidence  and  buoyant  prosperity.  This  feel- 
ing of  confidence  is  strengthened  by  the  general  awak- 
ening of  Kentucky  in  increased  immigration  of  agri- 
culturists, and  in  the  development  of  extraordinary 
mines  of  coal  and  iron,  and  in  the  railway  extension. 
But  locally  the  Board  of  Trade  (an  active  body  of  700 
members)  has  in  its  latest  report  most  encouraging 
figures  to  present.  In  almost  every  branch  of  busi- 
ness there  was  an  increase  in  1887  over  188G;  in  both 
manufactures  and  trade  the  volume  of  business  in- 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


289 


creased  from  twenty  to  fifty  per  cent.  For  instance, 
stoves  and  castings  increased  from  10,574,547  pounds 
to  19,386,808;  manufactured  tobacco,  from  12,729,421 
pounds  to  17,059,000;  gas  and  water  pipes,  from  50,- 
083,380  pounds  to  03,745,210;  grass  and  clover  seed, 
from  4,240,908  bushels  to  6,601,451.  A  conclusive 
item  as  to  manufactures  is  that  there  were  received  in 
1887  951,707  tons  of  bituminous  coal,  against  204,221 
tons  in  1880.  Louisville  makes  the  claim  of  being  the 
largest  tobacco  market  in  the  world  in  bulk  and  va- 
riety. It  leads  largely  the  nine  principal  leaf-tobacco 
markets  in  the  West.  The  figures  for  1887  are — re- 
ceipts, 123,509  hogsheads;  sales,  135,192  hogsheads; 
stock  in  hand,  30,431  hogsheads,  against  the  corre- 
gponding  figures  of  02,074,  65,924,  13,972  of  its  great 
rival,  Cincinnati.  These  large  figures  are  a  great  in- 
crease over  1880,  when  the  value  of  tobacco  handled 
here  was  estimated  at  nearly  $20,000,000.  Another 
groat  interest  always  associated  with  Louisville,  whis- 
key, shows  a  like  increase,  there  being  shipped  in  1887 
110,037  barrels,  against  101,943  barrels  in  1S80.  In 
the  Louisville  collection  district  there  were  registered 
one  hundred  grain  distilleries,  with  a  capacity  of  80,000 
gallons  a  day.  For  the  five  years  ending  Juno  30, 
1887,  the  revenue  taxes  on  this  product  amounted  to 
nearly  $30,000,000.  I  am  not  attempting  a  conspectus 
of  the  business  of  Louisville,  only  selecting  some  fig- 
ures illustrating  its  growth.  Its  manufacture  of  agri- 
cultural implements  has  attained  grout  proportions. 
The  reputation  of  Louisville  for  tobacco  and  whiskey 
is  widely  advertised,  but  it  is  not  generally  known 
that  it  has  the  largest  plough  factory  in  the  world. 
This  is  one  of  four  which  altogether  employ  about 
19 


\k%i 


if 


\  i 


« '.' 


I. 


290 


South  and  West. 


^P 


I 


2000  hands,  and  make  a  product  valued  at  $2,275,000. 
In  1880  Louisville  made  80,000  ploughs;  in  188G, 
190,000.  The  capacity  of  manufacture  in  1887  was 
increased  by  the  enlargement  of  the  chief  factory  to  a 
number  not  given,  but  there  Avere  shipped  that  year 
11,005,151  pounds  of  ploughs.  There  is  a  steadily 
increasing  manufacture  of  woollen  goods,  and  the  pro- 
duction of  the  mixed  fabric  known  as  Kentucky  jeans 
is  another  industry  in  which  Louisville  leads  the 
world,  making  annually  7,500,000  yards  of  cloth,  and 
its  four  mills  increased  their  capacity  twenty  per 
cent,  in  1887.  The  opening  of  the  hard-wood  lumber 
districts  in  eastern  Kentucky  has  made  Louisville  one 
of  the  imyiortant  lumber  markets:  about  125,000,000 
feet  of  lumber,  logs,  etc.,  were  sold  here  in  1887.  But 
it  is  unnecessary  to  particularize.  The  Board  of  Trade 
think  that  the  advantages  of  Louisville  as  a  manu- 
facturing oentre  are  sufficiently  emphasized  from  the 
fact  that  during  the  year  1887  seventy  -  three  new 
manufacturing  establishments,  mainly  from  the  North 
and  East,  were  set  up,  using  a  capital  of  81,290,500, 
and  employing  1621  laborers.  The  city  has  twenty- 
two  banks,  which  had,  July  1,  1887,  $8,200,200  capi- 
tal, and  810,927,138  deposits.  The  clearings  for  1S87 
were  $281,110,402 — an  increase  of  nearly  $50,000,000 
over  1880. 

Another  item  which  helps  to  explam  the  buoyant 
feeling  of  Louisville  is  that  its  population  increased 
over  10,000  from  1886  to  1887,  reaciiing,  accorduig  to 
the  best  estimate,  177,000  people.  I  should  have  said 
also  that  no  city  in  the  Union  is  better  served  by 
street  raihvays,  which  are  so  multiplied  and  arranged 
as  to  "  correspondences  "  that  for  one  fare  nearly  ev- 


lii 


,/ 


Cincinnati  and  Louisville. 


291 


cry  inhabitant  can  rido  witliin  at  least  two  blocks  of 
his  residence.  In  these  ears,  as  in  the  railway  cars  of 
the  State,  there  is  the  same  absence  of  discrimination 
against  color  that  prevails  in  Louisiana  and  in  Arkan- 
sas. And  it  is  an  observation  hopeful,  at  least  to  the 
writer,  of  the  good  time  at  hand  when  all  party  lines 
shall  be  drawn  upon  the  broadest  national  issues,  that 
there  seems  to  be  in  Kentucky  no  social  distinction 
between  Democrats  and  Republicans. 


> «- 


II' 


hVi 


m 


XIII. 


MEMPHIS  AND  LITTLE  ROCK. 


!     I 


^'h,y 


\  : 


The  State  of  Tennessee  gets  its  diversity  of  climate 
and  productions  from  the  irregularity  of  its  surface, 
not  from  its  range  over  degrees  of  latitude,  like  Illi- 
nois; for  it  is  a  narrow  State,  with  an  average  breadth 
of  only  a  hundred  and  ten  miles, while  it  is  about  four 
hundred  miles  in  length,  from  the  mountains  in  the 
east — the  highest  land  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
— to  the  alluvial  bottom  of  the  Mif  jissippi  in  the 
west.  In  this  range  is  every  variety  of  mineral  and 
agricultural  wealth,  with  some  of  the  noblest  scenery 
and  the  fairest  farming-land  in  the  Union,  and  all  the 
good  varieties  of  a  temperate  climate. 

In  the  extreme  south-west  corner  lies  Memphis,  dif- 
fering as  entirelv  in  character  from  Knoxville  and 
Nashville  as  the  bottom-lands  of  the  Mississippi  dif- 
fer from  the  valleys  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains. 
It  is  the  natural  centre  of  the  finest  cotton-producing 
district  in  the  world,  the  county  of  Shelby,  of  which  it 
is  legally  known  as  the  Taxing  District,  yielding  more 
cotton  than  any  other  county  in  the  Union  except  that 
of  Washington  in  Mississippi.  It  is  almost  as  much 
aloof  politically  from  east  and  middle  Tennessee  as 
it  is  geographically.  A  homogeneous  State  might  be 
constructed  by  taking  west  Tennessee,  all  of  Missis- 
sippi above  Vicksburg  and  Jackson,  and  a  slice  off 
Arkansas,  with  Memphis  for  its  capital.     But  the  re- 


li'  , 


Mejnphia  and  Little  lioch. 


293 


districting  would  be  a  good  thing  neitlier  for  the 
States  named  nor  for  Memphis,  for  the  more  variety 
within  convenient  limits  a  State  can  have,  the  better, 
and  Memphis  could  not  wish  a  better  or  more  dis- 
tinguished destiny  than  to  become  the  commercial 
metropolis  of  a  State  of  such  great  possibilities  and 
varied  industries  as  Tennessee.  Her  political  influence 
might  be  more  decisive  in  the  homogeneous  State  out- 
lined, but  it  will  be  abundant  for  all  leasonable  am- 
bition in  its  inevitable  commercial  importance.  And 
besides,  the  western  part  of  the  State  needs  the  mor- 
al tonic  of  the  more  elevated  regions. 

The  city  has  a  frontage  of  about  four  miles  on  the 
Mississippi  River,  but  is  high  above  it  on  the  Chicka- 
saw Bluffs,  with  an  uneven  surface  and  a  rolling  coun- 
try back  of  it,  the  whole  capable  of  perfect  drainage. 
Its  site  is  tlie  best  on  the  river  for  a  great  city  from 
St.  Louis  to  the  Gulf;  this  advantage  is  emphasized 
by  the  concentration  of  railways  at  this  point,  and  the 
great  bridge,  which  is  now  on  the  eve  of  construction, 
to  the  Arkansas  shore,  no  doubt  fixes  its  destiny  as  the 
inland  metropolis  of  the  South-west.  Memphis  was  the 
child  of  the  Mississippi,  and  this  powerful,  wayward 
stream  is  still  its  fostering  mother,  notwithstanding 
the  decay  of  river  commerce  brought  about  by  the  rail- 
ways; for  the  river  still  asserts  its  power  as  a  regula- 
tor of  rates  of  transportation.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  the  freighting  on  it  in  towed  barges  is  not  still 
enormous,  but  if  it  did  not  carry  a  pound  to  the  mar- 
kets of  the  world  it  is  still  the  friend  of  all  the  inner 
continental  regions,  which  says  to  the  railroads,  be- 
yond a  certain  rate  of  charges  you  shall  not  go.  With 
this  advantage  of  situation,  the  natural  receiver  of  the 


V. 


Ir 


"  1^-; 


i<  ii« 


■  .1  ■   •^ 

;      !l; 

!    ■               ; 

294 


South  and  West 


n 


;<■ 


products  of  an  inexhaustible  agricultural  region  (one 
has  only  to  take  a  trip  by  rail  through  the  Yazoo  Val- 
ley to  be  convinced  of  that),  and  an  equally  good  point 
for  distribution  of  supplies,  it  is  inevitable  that  Mem- 
phis should  grow  with  an  accelerating  impulse. 

The  city  has  had  a  singular  and  instructive  history, 
and  that  she  has  survived  so  many  vicissitudes  and 
calamities,  and  entered  upon  an  extraordinary  career 
of  prosperity,  is  sufficient  evidence  of  the  territorial 
necessity  of  a  large  city  just  at  this  point  on  the  riv- 
er. The  student  of  social  science  will  find  in  its  his- 
tory a  striking  illustration  of  the  relation  of  sound 
sanitary  and  business  conditions  to  order  and  moral- 
ity. Before  the  war,  and  for  some  time  after  it,  Mem- 
phis was  a  place  for  trade  in  one  staple,  where  fortunes 
were  quickly  made  and  lost,  where  no  attention  was 
paid  to  sanitary  laws.  The  cloud  of  impending  pes- 
tilence always  hung  over  it,  the  yellow-fever  was  al- 
ways a  possibility,  and  a  devastating  epidemic  of  it 
must  inevitably  be  reckoned  with  every  few  years. 
It  seems  to  be  a  law  of  social  life  that  an  epidemic, 
or  the  probability  of  it,  engenders  a  recklessness  of 
life  and  a  low  condition  of  morals  and  public  order. 
MemiDhis  existed,  so  to  speak,  on  the  edge  of  a  vol- 
cano, and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  it  had  a  reputation 
for  violence  and  disorder.  While  little  or  nothing  was 
done  to  make  the  city  clean  and  habitable,  or  to  beau- 
tify it,  law  was  weak  in  its  mobile,  excitable  popula- 
tion, and  differences  of  opinion  were  settled  by  tlie 
revolver.  In  spite  of  these  disadvantages,  the  profits 
of  trade  were  so  great  there  that  its  population  of 
twenty  thousand  at  the  close  of  the  war  had  doubled 
by  1878.    In  that  year  the  yellow-fever  came  as  an 


Memphis  and  Little  Rock. 


295 


epklemic,  and  so  increased  in  1879  as  nearly  to  depop- 
ulate the  city;  its  population  was  reduced  from  nearly 
forty  thousand  to  about  fourteen  thousand,  two-thirds 
of  which  were  negroes;  its  comraerco  was  absolutely 
cut  off,  its  manufactures  were  suspended,  it  was  bank- 
rupt. There  is  nothing  more  unfortunate  for  a  State 
or  a  city  than  loss  of  financial  credit.  Memphis  strug- 
gled in  vain  with  its  enormous  debt,  unable  to  pay  it, 
unable  to  compromise  it. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  city  resorted  to  a 
novel  expedient.  It  surrendered  its  charter  to  the 
State,  and  ceased  to  exist  as  a  municipality.  The 
leaders  of  this  movement  gave  two  reasons  for  it, 
the  wish  not  to  repudiate  the  city  debt,  but  to  gain 
breathing-time,  and  that  municipal  government  in  this 
country  is  a  failure.  The  Legislature  erected  the 
former  Memphis  into  The  Taxing  District  of  Shelby 
County,  and  provided  a  government  for  it.  This 
government  consists  of  a  Legislative  Council  of  eight 
members,  made  up  of  the  Board  of  Fire  and  Police 
Commissioners,  consisting  of  three,  and  the  Board  of 
Public  Works,  consisting  of  five.  These  are  all  elected 
by  popular  vote  to  serve  a  term  of  four  years,  but  the 
elections  are  held  every  two  years,  so  that  the  council 
always  contains  members  who  have  had  experience. 
The  Boara  of  Fire  and  Police  Commissioners  elects  a 
President,  who  is  the  executive  officer  of  the  Taxing 
District,  and  has  the  power  and  duties  of  a  mayor;  he 
has  a  salary  of  |2000,  inclusive  of  his  fees  as  police 
magistrate,  and  the  other  members  of  his  board  have 
salaries  of  8500.  The  members  of  the  Board  of  Pub- 
lic Works  serve  without  compensation.  No  man  can 
be  eligible  to  either  board  who  has  not  been  a  resi- 


296 


South  and  West. 


mk  . 


dent  of  tliO  district  for  five  yoars.  In  addition  there 
is  a  Board  of  Health,  appointed  by  the  council.  This 
government  has  the  ordinary  powers  of  .1  city  govern- 
ment, defined  carefully  in  the  Act,  but  it  cannot  run 
the  city  in  debt,  and  it  cannot  appropriate  the  taxes 
collected  except  for  the  specific  purpose  named  by 
the  State  Legislature,  which  specific  appropriations 
are  voted  annually  by  the  Legislature  on  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  council.  Thus  the  government  of 
the  city  is  committed  to  eight  men,  and  the  execution 
of  its  laws  to  one  man,  the  President  of  the  Taxing 
District,  who  has  extraordinary  power.  The  final  suc- 
cess of  this  scheme  will  be  watched  with  a  great  deal 
of  interest  by  other  cities.  On  the  surface  it  can  be 
seen  that  it  depends  upon  securing  a  non-partisan  coun- 
cil, and  an  honest,  conscientious  President  of  the  Tax- 
ing District — that  is  to  say,  upon  the  choice  by  popu- 
lar vote  of  the  best  eight  men  to  rule  the  city.  L^p  to 
this  time,  with  only  slight  hitches,  it  has  worked  ex- 
ceedingly well,  as  will  appear  in  a  consideration  of  the 
condition  of  the  city.  The  slight  hitch  mentioned  was 
that  the  President  was  accused  of  using  temporarily 
the  sum  appropriated  for  one  city  purpose  for  an- 
other. 

The  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  decided 
that  Memphis  had  not  evaded  its  obligations  by  a 
change  of  name  and  form  of  government.  The  re- 
sult was  a  settlement  with  the  creditors  at  fifty  cents 
on  the  dollar;  and  then  the  city  gathered  itself  togeth- 
er for  a  courageous  effort  and  a  new  era  of  prosperity. 
The  turning-point  in  its  career  was  the  adoption  of  a 
system  of  drainage  and  sewerage  which  transformed 
it  immediately  into  a  fairly  healthful  city.     With  its 


Memphis  and  Little  lioeh. 


297 


uneven  surface  and  abundance  of  water  at  hand,  it  was 
well  adapted  to  the  Waring  system,  which  works  to 
the  satisfaction  of  all  concerned,  and  since  its  intro- 
duction the  inhabitants  arc  relieved  from  apprehension 
of  the  return  of  a  yellow-fever  epidemic.  Population 
and  business  returned  with  this  sense  of  security,  and 
there  has  been  a  change  in  the  social  atmosphere  as 
well.  In  1880  it  had  a  population  of  less  than  34,000; 
it  can  now  truthfully  claim  between  75,000  and  80,000; 
and  the  business  activity,  the  building  both  of  fine  busi- 
ness blocks  and  handsome  private  residences,  are  pro- 
portioned to  the  increase  in  inhabitants.  In  1879-80 
the  receipt  of  cotton  was  409,809  bales,  valued  at  $23,- 
752,529;  in  1880-87,663,277  bales,  valued  at  830,099,- 
510.  The  estimate  of  the  Board  of  Trade  for  1888, 
judging  from  the  first  months  of  the  year,  is  700,000 
bales.  I  notice  in  the  comparative  statement  of  lead- 
ing articles  of  commerce  and  consumption  an  exceed- 
ingly large  increase  in  1887  over  1886.  The  banking 
capital  in  1887  was  $3,360,000— an  increase  of  $1,560,- 
000  over  1886.  The  clearings  were  $101,177,377  in 
1877,  against  $82,642,192  in  1886. 

The  traveller,  however,  does  not  need  figures  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  business  activity  of  the  town ;  the 
piles  of  cotton  beyond  the  capacity  of  storage,  the 
street  traific,  the  extension  of  streets  and  residences 
far  beyond  the  city  limits,  all  speak  of  growth.  There 
is  in  process  of  construction  a  union  station  to  accom- 
modate the  six  railways  now  meeting  there  and  others 
projected.  On  the  west  of  the  river  it  has  lines  to 
Kansas  City  and  Little  Rock  and  to  St.  Louis;  on  the 
east,  to  Louisville  and  to  the  Atlantic  seaboard  direct, 
and  two  to  New  Orleans.     With  the  building  of  the 


1 

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298 


South  and  West. 


f     ! 


y 


i    ',1 

■  i 


bridge,  which  is  expected  to  be  constructed  in  a  conplo 
of  years,  Memphis  will  bo  admirably  supplied  with 
transportation  facilities. 

As  to  its  external  appearance,  it  must  bo  said  that 
the  city  has  grown  so  fast  that  city  improvements  do 
not  keep  pace  with  its  assessable  value.  The  inability 
of  the  city  to  go  into  debt  is  a  wholesome  i)rovision, 
but  under  this  limitation  the  city  offices  are  shabby, 
the  city  police  quarters  and  court  would  disgrace  an 
indigent  country  village,  and  most  of  the  streets  are 
in  bad  condition  for  want  of  pavement.  There  are 
line  streets,  many  attractive  new  residences,  and  some 
fine  old  places,  with  great  trees,  and  tlie  gravelled 
pikes  running  into  the  country  are  in  fine  condition, 
and  are  favorite  drives.  There  is  a  beautiful  country 
round  about,  with  some  hills  and  pleasant  woods. 
Looked  at  from  an  elevation,  the  town  is  seen  to  cover 
a  large  territory,  and  presents  in  the  early  green  of 
spring  a  charming  appearance.  Some  five  miles  out 
is  the  Montgomery  race-track,  park,  and  club-house — 
a  handsome  establishment,  prettily  laid  out  and  plant- 
ed, already  attractive,  and  sure  to  be  notable  when 
the  trees  are  grown. 

The  city  has  a  public  -  school  system,  a  Board  of 
Education  elected  by  popular  vote,  and  divides  its 
fund  fairly  between  schools  for  white  and  colored 
children.  But  it  needs  good  school-houses  as  much 
as  it  needs  good  pavements.  In  1887  the  tax  of  one 
and  a  half  mills  produced  $54,000  for  carrying  on  the 
schools,  and  819,000  for  the  building  fund.  It  was 
not  enough  —  at  least  875,000  were  needed.  The 
schools  were  in  debt.  There  is  a  plan  adopted  for  a 
fine  High  -  school  building,  but  the  city  needs  alto- 


Memphis  and  Little  liovk. 


299 


ccether  more  money  and  more  energy  for  the  public 
schools.  According  to  some  reports  the  public  schools 
have  suffered  from  politics,  and  are  not  as  good  as  they 
were  years  ago,  but  they  are  undoubtedly  gaining  in 
public  favor,  notwithstanding  some  remaining  IJourbon 
prejudice  against  them.  The  citizens  are  making  mon- 
ey fast  enough  to  begin  to  be  liberal  in  matters  educa- 
tional, which  are  only  second  to  sanitary  measures  iu 
the  well-being  of  the  city.  The  new  free  Public 
Library,  which  will  be  built  and  opened  in  a  couple 
of  years,  will  do  much  for  the  city  in  this  direction. 
It  is  the  noble  gift  of  the  late  F.  II.  Cossitt,  of  New 
York,  formerly  a  citizen  of  Memphis,  who  left  ij575,000 
for  that  purpose. 

Perhaps  the  public  schools  of  IMcmphis  would  bo 
better  (though  not  so  without  liberal  endowment)  if 
the  city  had  not  two  exceptionally  good  private  schools 
for  young  ladies.  These  are  the  Clara  Conway  Insti- 
tute and  the  Iligby  School  for  Young  Ladies,  taking 
their  names  from  their  principals  and  founders.  Eacli 
of  these  schools  has  about  350  pupils,  from  the  age  of 
six  to  the  mature  age  of  graduation,  boys  being  ad- 
mitted until  they  are  twelve  years  old.  Each  has 
pleasant  grounds  and  fine  buildings,  large,  airy,  well 
planned,  with  ample  room  for  all  the  departments — 
literature,  science,  art,  music — of  the  most  advanced 
education.  One  finds  in  them  the  best  methods  of 
the  best  schools,  and  a  most  admirable  spirit.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  these  schools  give  distinction 
to  Memphis,  and  that  the  discipline  and  intellectual 
training  the  young  ladies  receive  there  will  have  a 
marked  effect  upon  the  social  life  of  the  city.  If  one 
who  spent  some  delightful  hours  in  the  company  of 


i< ' 


300 


South  and  West. 


V 


m  I 


)   I 


these  graceful  and  enthusiastic  scholars,  and  who 
would  like  heartily  to  acknowledge  their  cordiality, 
and  his  appreciation  of  their  admirable  progress  in 
general  study,  might  make  a  suggestion,  it  w^ould  be 
that  what  the  frank,  impulsive  Southern  girl,  with  her 
inborn  talent  for  being  agreeable  and  her  vivid  ap- 
prehension of  life,  needs  least  of  all  is  the  culti- 
vation of  the  emotional,  the  rhetorical,  the  senti- 
mental side.  However  cleverly  they  are  done,  the 
recitation  of  poems  of  sentiment,  of  passion,  of  love- 
in  aking  and  marriage,  above  all,  of  those  doubtful 
dialect  verses  in  wliich  a  touch  of  pseudo-feeling  is 
supposed  to  excuse  the  slang  of  the  street  and  the 
vulgarity  of  the  farm,  is  not  an  exercise  elevating  to 
the  taste.  I  happen  to  speak  of  it  here,  but  I  confess 
that  it  is  only  a  text  from  which  a  little  sermon  might 
be  preached  about  "recitations"  and  declamations 
generally,  in  these  days  of  overdone  dialect  and  innu- 
endoes about  the  hypocrisy  of  old-fashioned  morality. 

The  city  has  a  prosperous  college  of  the  Christian 
Brothers,  another  excellent  school  for  girls  in  the  St. 
Agnes  Academy,  and  a  colored  industrial  school,  the 
Lemoyne,  where  the  girls  are  taught  cooking  and  the 
art  of  house-keeping,  and  the  boys  learn  carpentering. 
This  does  not  belong  to  the  public-school  system. 

Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  about  the  propriety 
of  attaching  industrial  training  to  public  schools  gen- 
erally, there  is  no  doubt  that  this  sort  of  training  is  in- 
dispensable to  the  colored  people  of  the  South,  whose 
children  do  not  at  present  receive  the  needed  domestic 
training  at  home,  and  whose  education  must  contribute 
to  their  ability  to  earn  a  living.  Those  educated  in 
the  schools^  high  and  low,  cannot  all  be  teachers  or 


f 


Memphis  and  Little  liock. 


301 


preachers,  and  they  are  not  in  the  way  of  cither  social 
elevation  or  thrifty  lives  if  they  have  neither  a  trade 
nor  the  taste  to  make  neat  and  agreeable  homes.  The 
colored  race  cannot  have  it  too  often  impressed  upon 
them  that  their  way  to  all  the  rights  and  privileges 
under  a  free  government  lies  in  industry,  thrift,  and 
morality.  AVhatcver  reason  they  have  to  complain  of 
remaining  discrimination  and  prejudice,  there  is  only 
one  way  to  overcome  both,  and  that  is  by  the  acquisi- 
tion of  property  ard  intelligence.  In  the  history  of 
the  world  a  people  were  never  elevated  otherwise. 
No  amount  of  legislation  can  do  it.  In  Memphis — in 
Southern  cities  generally — the  public  schools  are  im- 
partially administered  as  to  the  use  of  money  for  both 
races.  In  the  country  districts  they  are  as  generally 
inadequate,  both  in  quality  and  in  the  length  of  the 
school  year.  In  the  country,  where  farming  and  do- 
mestic service  must  be  the  occupations  of  the  mass  of 
tlie  people,  industrial  schools  are  certainly  not  called 
for;  but  in  the  cities  they  are  a  necessity  of  the  pres- 
ent development. 

Ever  since  Memphis  took  itself  in  hand  with  a  new 
kind  of  municipal  government,  and  made  itself  a  health- 
ful city,  good-fortune  of  one  kind  and  another  seems 
to  have  attended  it.  Abundant  water  it  could  get 
from  the  river  for  sewerage  purposes,  but  for  other 
uses  either  extensive  filters  were  needed  or  cisterns 
were  resorted  to.  The  city  was  supplied  with  water, 
which  the  stranger  would  hesitate  to  drink  or  bathe 
in,  from  V>'olf  River,  a  small  stream  emptying  into 
the  Mississippi  above  the  city.  But  within  the  year 
a  most  important  discovery  has  been  made  for  the 
health  and  prosperity  of  the  town.      This  was  the 


i 


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(  5 


II  ■i 


302 


South  and  West. 


:H.: 


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striking,  in  the  depression  of  tbe  Gayoso  Bayou,  at  a 
depth  of  450  feet,  perfectly  pure  water,  at  a  tempera- 
ture of  about  62°,  in  abundance,  with  a  liead  sufficient 
to  bring  it  in  fountains  some  feet  about  the  level  of 
the  ground.  Ten  wells  had  boon  sunk,  and  the  water 
flowing  was  estimated  at  ten  millions  of  gallons  daily, 
or  half  enough  to  supply  the  city.  It  was  expected 
that  with  more  wells  the  supply  would  be  sufficient 
for  all  purposes,  and  then  Memphis  will  have  drinking 
water  not  excelled  in  purity  by  that  of  any  city  in  the 
land.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  this  incalcu- 
lable good-fortune  should  add  buo^^ancy  to  the  busi- 
ness, and  even  to  the  advance  in  the  price,  of  real 
estate.  The  city  has  widely  outgrown  its  corporate 
limits,  there  is  activity  in  building  and  improvements 
in  all  the  pleasant  suburbs,  and  with  the  new  pave- 
ments which  are  in  progress,  the  city  will  be  as  attract- 
ive as  it  is  prosperous. 

Climate  is  much  a  matter  of  taste.  The  whole  area 
of  the  alluvial  land  of  the  Mississippi  has  the  three 
requisites  for  malaria — heat,  moisture,  and  vegetable 
decomposition.  The  tendency  to  this  is  overcome,  in 
a  measure,  as  the  land  is  thoroughly  drained  and  culti- 
vated. Memphis  has  a  mild  Avinter,  long  summer,  and 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  year  when  the  tempera- 
ture is  just  about  right  for  enjoyment.  In  the  table 
of  temperature  for  1887  I  find  that  the  mean  was  01.9°, 
the  mean  of  the  highest  by  months  was  84.9°,  and  the 
mean  lowest  was  37.4°.  The  coldest  month  was  Janu- 
ary, when  the  range  of  the  thermometer  was  frc 
72.2°  to  4.3°,  and  the  hottest  was  July,  when  the  range 
was  from  99°  to  07.3°.  Tliere  is  a  preponderance  of 
fair,  sunny  ^veather.     The  record  for  1887  was:  157 


.    ,1 

J  ii 


Meinphis  and  Little  liocTc. 


303 


days  of  clear,  132  fair,  65  cloudy,  91  days  of  frost. 
From  this  it  appears  that  Memphis  has  a  pretty  agree- 
able climate  for  those  who  do  not  insist  upon  a  good 
deal  of  "  bracing,"  and  it  has  a  most  genial  and  hospi- 
table society. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  r2th  of  April  we 
crossed  the  river  to  the  lower  landing  of  the  Mem- 
phis and  Little  Rock  Railway,  the  upper  landing  be- 
ing inaccessible  on  account  of  the  higli  water.  It 
was  a  delicious  spring  morning,  the  foliage,  half  un- 
folded, was  in  its  first  flush  of  green,  and  as  wo  steam- 
ed down  the  stream  the  town,  on  bluffs  forty  feet  high, 
was  seen  to  have  a  noble  situation.  All  the  opjiosito 
country  for  forty  miles  from  the  river  was  afloat, 
and  presented  the  appearance  of  a  vast  swamp,  not 
altogether  unpleasing  in  its  fresh  dress  of  green. 
For  forty  miles,  to  Madison,  the  road  ran  upon  an 
embankment  just  above  the  flood ;  at  intervals  were 
poor  shanties  and  little  cultivated  patches,  but  shan- 
ties, corn  patches,  and  trees  all  stood  in  the  water. 
The  inhabitants,  the  majority  colored,  seemed  of  the 
sort  to  be  content  with  half-amphibious  lives.  Be- 
fore we  reached  Madison  and  crossed  St.  Francis 
River  we  ran  through  a  streak  of  gravel.  Forest 
City,  at  the  crossing  of  the  Iron  Mountain  Railway, 
turned  out  to  be  not  exactly  a  citv,  in  the  Eastern 
meaning  of  the  word,  but  a  considerable  collection  of 
liouses,  with  a  large  hotel.  It  seemed,  so  far  in  the 
wilderness,  an  irresponsible  sort  of  place,  and  the 
crowd  at  '  the  station  were  in  a  festive,  hilarious 
mood.  This  was  heightened  by  the  plaj'ing  of  a 
travelling  band  which   we   carried   with   us   in   the 


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304 


South  and  West. 


second-class  car,  and  which  good-naturedly  unlim- 
bered  at  the  stations.  It  consisted  of  a  colored  bass- 
viol,  violin,  and  guitar,  and  a  white  cornet.  On  tlic 
way  the  negro  population  were  in  the  majority,  all 
the  residences  were  shabby  shanties,  and  the  moving 
public  on  the  trains  and  about  the  stations  had  not 
profited  by  the  example  of  the  commercial  travellers, 
who  are  the  only  smartly  dressed  people  one  sees  in 
these  regions.  A  young  girl  who  got  into  the  car 
liere  told  me  that  she  came  from  Marianna,  a  town  to 
the  south,  on  the  Languille  River,  and  she  seemed  to 
regard  it  as  a  central  place.  At  Brinkley  we  crossed 
the  St.  Louis,  Arkansas,  and  Texas  road,  ran  through 
more  swamps  to  the  Cache  River,  after  which  there 
was  prairie  and  bottom-land,  and  at  De  Valle's  Bluff 
we  came  to  the  White  River.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
this  country  is  well  watered.  After  White  River  line 
reaches  of  prairie-land  were  encountered — in  fact,  a 
good  deal  of  prairie  and  oak  timber.  Much  of  this 
prairie  had  once  been  cultivated  to  cotton,  but  was 
now  turned  to  grazing,  and  dotted  with  cattle.  A 
place  named  Prairie  Centre  had  been  abandoned ;  in- 
deed, we  passed  a  good  many  abandoned  houses  before 
we  reached  Carlisle  and  the  Galloway.  Lonoke  is  one  of 
the  villages  of  rather  mean  appearance,  but  important 
enough  to  be  talked  about  and  visited  by  the  five 
aspirants  for  the  gubernatorial  nomination,  who  were 
travelling  about  together,  each  one  trying  to  con- 
vince the  people  that  the  other  four  were  unworthy 
the  office.  This  is  lowland  Arkansas,  supporting  a 
few  rude  villages,  inhabited  by  negroes  and  nnam- 
bitious  whites,  and  not  a  fairly  representative  portion 
of  a  great  State. 


Memjphia  and  Little  lloclc. 


305 


At  Argenta,  a  sort  of  railway  and  factory  suburb 
of  the  city,  we  crossed  the  muddy,  strong-flowing 
Arkansas  River  on  a  fine  bridge,  elevated  so  as  to 
strike  high  up  on  the  bluff  on  which  Little  Rock  is 
built.  The  rock  of  the  bluff,  which  the  railway 
pierces,  is  a  ver}'  shaly  slate.  The  town  lying  along 
the  bluff  has  a  very  picturesque  appearance,  in  spite 
of  its  newness  and  the  poor  color  of  its  brick.  The 
situation  is  a  noble  one,  commanding  a  fine  prospect 
of  river  and  j)lain,  and  mountains  to  the  west  rising 
from  the  bluff  on  a  scries  of  gentle  hills,  with  con- 
spicuous heights  farther  out  for  public  institutions 
and  country  houses.  The  city,  which  has  nearly 
thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  can  boast  a  number  of 
liandsome  business  streets  with  good  shops  and  an  air 
of  prosperous  trade,  with  well-shaded  residence  streets 
of  comfortable  houses ;  but  all  the  thoroughfares  are 
bad  for  want  of  paving.  Little  Rock  being  forbidden 
by  the  organic  law  ( as  ^Memphis  is )  to  run  in  debt  for 
city  improvements.  A  city  which  has  doubled  its 
population  within  eight  years,  and  been  restrained 
from  using  its  credit,  must  expect  to  suffer  from  bad 
streets,  but  its  caution  about  debt  is  reassuring  to  in- 
tending settlers.  The  needed  street  improvements,  it 
is  understood,  however,  will  soon  be  under  way,  and 
the  citizens  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
when  they  are  made,  Little  Rock  Avill  be  a  beautiful 
citv. 

Below  the  second  of  the  iron  bridges  which  span 
the  river  is  a  bowlder  which  gave  the  name  of  Little 
Rock  to  the  town.  The  general  impression  is  that  it 
is  the  first  rock  on  the  river  above  its  confluence 
with  the  Mississippi  ;  this  is  not  literally  true,  but 
20 


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306 


South  and  West. 


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this  rock  is  the  first  conspicuous  one,  and  has  become 
liistoric.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  a  mile 
above,  is  a  bhiff  several  hundred  feet  high,  called  Big 
Rock.  On  the  summit  is  a  beautiful  park,  a  vine- 
yard, a  summer  hotel,  and  pleasure-grounds  —  a  de- 
lightful resort  in  the  hot  weather.  From  the  top  one 
gains  a  fair  idea  of  Arkansas — the  rich  delta  of  the 
river,  the  migiity  stream  itself,  the  fertile  rolling  land 
and  forests,  the  mountains  on  the  border  of  the  Ind- 
ian Territory,  the  fair  city,  the  sightly  prominences 
about  it  dotted  with  buildings  —  altogether  a  macr- 
nificent  and  most  charming  view. 

There  is  a  United  States  arsenal  at  Little  Rock  ; 
the  Government  Post-office  is  a  handsome  building, 
and  among  the  t\venty-seven  churches  there  are  some 
of  pleasing  architecture.  The  State-house,  which 
stands  upon  the  bluff  overlooking  the  river,  is  a  relic 
of  old  times,  suggesting  the  easy-going  plantation 
style.  It  is  an  indescribable  building,  or  group  of 
buildings,  with  classic  pillars  of  course,  and  rambling 
galleries  that  lead  to  old-fashioned,  domestic-looking 
State  offices.  It  is  shabby  in  appearance,  but  has  a 
certain  interior  air  of  comfort.  The  room  of  the 
Assembly — plain,  with  windows  on  three  sides,  open 
to  the  sun  and  air,  and  not  so  large  that  conversation- 
al speaking  cannot  be  heard  in  it — is  not  at  all  the 
modern  notion  of  a  legislative  chamber,  which  ought 
to  be  lofty,  magnificently  decorated,  lighted  from 
above,  and  shut  in  as  much  as  possible  from  the  nir 
and  the  outside  world.  Arkansas,  which  is  rapidly 
growing  in  population  and  Avealth,  will  no  doubt 
very  soon  want  a  new  State-house.  Heaven  send 
it  an  architect  who  will  think  first  of  the  ccufort- 


m  \\ 


s'f    . 


Memphis  and  Little  Rock. 


307 


able,  cheerful  rooms,  and  second  of  imposing  out- 
side display  !  lie  might  spend  a  couple  of  millions 
on  a  building  Avhicli  would  astonish  the  natives,  and 
not  give  them  as  agreeable  a  working  room  for  the 
Legislature  as  this  old  chamber.  The  fashion  is  to 
put  up  an  edifice  whose  dimensions  shall  somehow 
represent  the  dignity  of  the  State,  a  vast  structure  of 
hall-waj^s  and  staircases,  with  half- lighted  and  ill- 
ventilated  rooms.  It  seems  to  mo  that  the  American 
genius  ought  to  be  able  to  devise  a  cai)itol  of  a  differ- 
ent sort,  certainly  one  better  adapted  to  the  Southern 
climate.  A  group  of  connected  buildings  for  the 
various  departments  might  be  better  than  one  solid 
parallelogram,  and  I  have  a  fancy  that  legislators 
would  be  clearer -headed,  and  would  profit  more  by 
discussion,  if  they  sat  in  a  cheerful  chamber,  not  too 
large  to  be  easily  heai'd  in,  and  open  as  much  as  pos- 
sible to  the  sun  and  air  and  the  sight  of  tranquil 
nature.  The  present  Capitol  has  an  air  of  lazy  neg- 
lect, and  the  law  library  which  is  stored  in  it  could 
not  well  be  in  a  worse  condition  ;  but  there  is  some- 
thing rather  pleasing  about  the  old,  easy-going  es- 
tablishment that  one  would  pretty  certainly  miss  in  a 
smart  new  building.  Arkansas  has  an  opportunity  to 
distinguish  itself  by  a  new  departure  in  State-houses. 
In  the  city  are  several  of  the  State  institutions, 
most  of  them  occupying  ample  grounds  with  fine  sites 
in  the  suburbs.  Conspicuous  on  high  ground  in  the 
city  is  the  Blind  Asylum,  a  very  commodious,  and 
well-conducted  institution,  with  about  80  inmates. 
The  School  for  Deaf-mutes,  witli  125  pupils,  is  under 
very  able  management.  I3ut  I  confess  that  the  State 
Lunatic  Asylum  gave  me  a  genuine  surprise,  and  if 


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308 


South  and  West. 


the  civilization  of  Arkansas  were  to  be  jutlged  by  it, 
it  -would  take  high  rank  among  the  States.  It  is  a 
very  fine  building,  well  constructed  and  admirably 
planned,  on  a  site  commanding  a  noble  view,  with 
eighty  acres  of  forest  and  garden.  More  land  is 
needed  to  carry  out  the  superintendent's  idea  of  labor, 
and  to  furnish  supplies  for  the  patients,  of  whom 
there  ai'c  450,  the  men  and  women,  colored  and  white, 
in  separate  wings.  The  builders  seem  to  have  taken 
advantage  of  all  the  Eastern  ex[)erience  and  shunned 
the  Eastern  mistakes,  and  the  result  is  an  establishment 
with  all  the  modern  improvements  and  conveniences, 
conducted  in  the  most  enlightened  spirit.  I  do  not 
know  a  better  large  State  asylum  in  the  United 
States.  Of  the  State  penitentiary  nothing  good  can 
be  said.  Arkansas  is  still  struggling  with  the  wretch- 
ed lease  system,  the  frightful  abuses  of  which  she  is 
beginning  to  appreciate.  The  penitentiary  is  a  sort 
of  depot  for  convicts,  who  are  distributed  about  the 
State  by  the  contractors.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  a 
considerable  number  were  there,  more  or  less  crippled 
and  sick,  who  had  been  rescued  from  barbarous  treat- 
ment in  one  of  the  mines.  A  gang  were  breaking 
stones  in  the  yard,  a  few  were  making  cigars,  and  the 
dozen  women  in  the  women's  ward  were  doing  laun- 
dry-work. But  nothing  ai)peared  to  be  done  to  im- 
prove the  condition  of  the  inmates.  In  Southern 
prisons  I  notice  comparatively  few  of  the  "  ])rofes- 
sional  "  class  which  so  largely  make  the  population  of 
Northern  penitentiaries,  and  I  always  fancy  that  in 
the  rather  easy-going  management,  wanting  the  cast- 
iron  discipline,  the  lot  of  the  prisoners  is  not  so 
hard.     Thus  far  among  the  colored  people  not  much 


Memphis  and  Little  liocJc. 


309 


odium  attaches  to  one  of  their  race  who  has  been  in 
prison. 

The  public-school  system  of  the  State  is  slowly  im- 
proving, hampered  by  want  of  Constitutional  power 
to  raise  money  for  the  schools.  By  the  Constitution, 
State  taxes  are  limited  to  one  per  cent. ;  county  taxes 
to  one-half  of  one  per  cent.,  with  an  addition  of  one- 
half  of  one  per  cent,  to  pay  debts  existing  when  the 
Constitution  was  adopted  in  1874;  city  taxes  the 
same  as  county ;  in  addition,  for  the  support  of  com- 
mon schools,  the  Assembly  may  lay  a  tax  not  to  ex- 
ceed two  mills  on  the  dollar  on  the  taxable  property 
of  the  State,  and  an  annual  ^?er  capita  tax  of  one  dol- 
lar on  every  male  inhabitant  over  the  age  of  twenty- 
one  years  ;  and  it  may  also  authorize  each  school  dis- 
trict to  raise  for  itself,  by  vote  of  its  electors,  a  tax 
for  school  purposes  not  to  exceed  five  mills  on  the 
dollar.  The  towns  generally  vote  this  additional  tax, 
but  in  most  of  the  country  districts  schools  are  not 
maintained  for  more  than  three  months  in  the  year. 
The  population  of  the  State  is  about  1,000,000,  in  an 
area  of  53,045  square  miles.  The  scholastic  population 
enrolled  has  increased  steadily  for  several  years,  and 
in  1886  was  164,757,  of  which  122,296  were  white  and 
42,461  were  colored.  The  total  population  of  school 
age  (including  the  enrolled)  was  358,006,  of  which 
266,188  were  white  and  91,818  colored.  The  school 
fund  available  for  that  year  was  $1,327,710.  The  in- 
creased revenue  and  enrolment  are  encouraging,  but 
it  is  admitted  that  the  schools  of  the  State  (sparsely 
settled  as  it  is)  cannot  be  what  they  should  be  with- 
out more  money  to  build  decent  school  -  houses,  em- 
ploy competent  teachers,  and  have  longer  sessions. 


"* 


310 


South  and  West. 


Little  Rock  has  fourteen  school -houses,  only  one  or 
two  of  which  are  commendable.  The  Iligh-school, 
with  50  pupils  and  2  teachers,  is  held  in  a  district 
building.  The  colored  people  have  their  fair  propor- 
tion of  schools,  with  teachers  of  their  own  race.  Lit- 
tle Rock  is  abundantly  able  to  tax  itself  for  better 
schools,  as  it  is  for  better  pavements.  In  all  the 
schools  most  attention  seems  to  be  paid  to  mathemat- 
ics, and  it  is  noticeable  how  poficient  colored  chil- 
dren under  twelve  are  in  figures. 

The  most  important  school  in  the  State,  which  I 
did  not  see,  is  the  Industrial  University  at  Fayette- 
ville,  which  received  the  Congressional  land  grant 
and  is  a  State  beneficiary  ;  its  property,  including  en- 
dowments and  the  University  farm,  is  reckoned  at 
$300,000.  The  general  intention  is  to  give  a  practi- 
cal industrial  education.  The  collegiate  department, 
a  course  of  three  years,  has  77  pupils  ;  in  the  prepara- 
tory dei^artment  are  about  200  ;  but  the  catalogue,  in- 
cluding special  students  in  art  and  music,  the  medical 
department  at  Little  Rock,  of  60,  and  the  Normal 
School  at  Pine  Bluff  of  215,  foots  up  about  600  stu- 
dents. The  University  is  situated  in  a  part  of  the 
State  most  attractive  in  its  scenery  and  most  health- 
ful, and  offers  a  chance  for  every  sort  of  mental  and 
manual  training. 

The  most  widely  famous  place  in  the  State  is  the 
Hot  Springs.  I  should  like  to  have  seen  it  when  it 
was  in  a  state  of  nature  ;  I  should  like  to  see  it  when 
it  gets  the  civilization  of  a  European  bath-place.  It 
has  been  a  popular  and  even  crowded  resort  for  sev- 
eral years,  and  the  medical  treatment  which  can  be 
given  therein  connection  with  the  use  of  the  waters 


Memphis  and  Little  Rock, 


311 


is  so  nearly  a  specific  for  certain  serious  diseases,  and 
going  tliero  is  so  much  a  necessity  for  many  invalids, 
that  access  to  it  ought  by  this  time  to  be  easy.  But 
it  is  not.  It  is  fifty -five  miles  south-west  of  Little 
Rock,  but  to  reach  it  the  traveller  must  leave  the 
Iron  Mountain  road  at  Malvern  for  a  ride  over  a 
branch  lino  of  some  twenty  miles.  Unfortunately 
this  is  a  narrow-gauge  road,  and  however  ill  a  person 
may  be,  a  change  of  cars  must  be  made  at  INIalvern. 
This  is  a  serious  annoyance,  and  it  is  a  wonder  that 
the  main  railways  and  the  hotel  and  bath  keepers 
have  not  united  to  rid  themselves  of  the  monopoly  of 
the  narrow-gauge  road. 

The  valley  of  the  Springs  is  over  seven  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea  ;  the  country  is  rough  and  broken  ; 
the  hills,  clad  with  small  pines  and  hard-wood,  which 
rise  on  either  side  of  the  valley  to  the  height  of  two 
or  three  hundred  feet,  make  an  agreeable  impression 
of  greenness;  and  the  place  is  capable,  by  reason  of  its 
irregularity,  of  becoming  beautiful  as  well  as  pictu- 
resque. It  is  still  in  the  cheap  cottage  and  raw  brick 
stage.  The  situation  suggests  Carlsbad,  which  is  also 
jammed  into  a  narrow  valley.  The  Hot  Springs 
Mountain — that  is,  the  mountain  from  the  side  of 
which  all  the  hot  springs  (about  seventy)  How — is  a 
Government  reservation.  Nothing  is  permitted  to  be 
built  on  it  except  the  Government  hospital  for  sol- 
diers and  sailors,  the  public  bath-houses  along  the 
foot,  and  one  hotel,  which  holds  over  on  the  reserved 
land.  The  Government  has  enclosed  and  piped  the 
springs,  built  a  couple  of  cement  reservoirs,  and  lets 
the  bath  privileges  to  private  parties  at  thirty  dollars 
a  tub,  the  number  of  tubs  being  limited.    The  rent 


i  it 


i; 


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ili 


1!  J 


v!  ' 


312 


South  and  West. 


'!■'. 


money  tl»c  Government  is  supposed  to  devote  to  the 
improvement  of  the  mountain.  This  lias  now  a  pri- 
vate lookout  tower  on  the  summit,  from  which  a  most 
extensive  view  is  liad  over  the  well-wooded  State,  and 
it  can  be  made  a  lovely  park.  There  is  a  good  deal 
of  criticism  about  favoritism  in  letting  the  bath  ])rivi- 
leges,  and  the  words  "ring"  and  "syndicate"  are 
constantly  heard.  ]>efore  improvements  were  made, 
the  hot  water  discharged  into  a  creek  at  the  base  of 
the  hill.  This  creek  is  now  arched  over  and  become 
a  street,  witli  the  bath-houses  on  one  side  and  shops 
and  shanties  on  the  other.  Difficulty  about  obtaining 
a  good  title  to  land  has  until  recently  stood  in  the 
"way  of  permanent  improvements.  All  claims  have 
now  been  adjudicated  upon,  the  Government  is  pro- 
pared  to  give  a  perfect  title  to  all  its  own  land,  ex- 
cept the  mountain,  forever  reserved,  and  purchasers 
can  be  sure  of  peaceful  occupation. 

Opposite  the  Hot  Springs  Mountain  rises  the  long 
sharp  ridge  ot  West  Mountain,  from  which  the  Gov- 
ernment does  not  permit  the  foliage  to  be  strii)ped. 
The  city  runs  around  and  back  of  this  mountain,  fol- 
lows the  winding  valley  to  the  north,  climbs  up  all 
the  irregular  ridges  in  the  neighborhood,  and  spreads 
itself  over  the  valley  on  the  south,  near  the  Ouachita 
River.  It  is  estimated  that  there  are  10,000  residents 
in  this  rapidly  growing  town.  Houses  stick  on  the 
side'  of  the  hills,  percli  on  terraces,  nestle  in  the  ra- 
vines. Nothing  is  regular,  nothing  is  as  might  have 
been  expected,  but  it  is  all  interesting,  and  promising 
of  something  pleasing  and  picturesque  in  the  future. 
All  the  springs,  except  one,  on  Hot  Springs  Mountain 
are  hot,  witli  a  temperature  ranging  from  93°  to  157° 


1      .» 


Memphis  and  Little  liock. 


313 


Fahrenheit ;  there  are  plenty  of  springs  in  and  among 
tlie  other  hills,  but  they  are  all  cold.  It  is  estimated 
that  the  i)resent  quantity  of  hot  water,  much  of 
which  runs  to  waste,  would  supply  about  19,000  per- 
sons daily  with  25  gallons  each.  The  water  is  per- 
fectly clear,  has  no  odor,  and  is  very  agreeable  for 
bathing.  That  remarkable  cures  are  performed  here 
the  evidence  does  not  y)ermit  one  to  doubt,  nor  can 
one  question  the  wonderfully  rejuvenating  effect 
upon  the  system  of  a  course  of  its  waters. 

It  is  necessary  to  suggest,  however,  that  the  value 
of  the  spriiigs  to  invalids  and  to  all  visitors  would  be 
greatly  enhanced  by  such  regulations  as  those  that 
govern  Carlsbad  and  Marienbad  in  ]5ohemia.  The 
success  of  those  groat  "cures"  depends  largely  upon 
the  regimen  enforced  there,  the  impossibility  of  in- 
dulging in  an  improper  diet,  and  the  prevailing  regu- 
larity of  habits  as  to  diet,  sleep,  and  exercise.  There 
is  need  at  Hot  Springs  for  more  hotel  accommodation 
of  the  sort  that  will  make  comfortable  invalids  accus- 
tomed to  luxury  at  home,  and  at  least  one  new  and 
very  largo  hotel  is  promised  soon  to  supply  this  de- 
mand ;  but  what  Hot  Springs  needs  is  the  comforts 
of  life,  and  not  means  of  indulgence  at  table  or  other- 
wise. Perhaps  it  is  impossible  for  the  American  pub- 
lic, even  the  sick  part  of  it,  to  submit  itself  to  disci- 
l>line,  but  we  never  will  have  the  full  benefit  of  our 
many  curative  springs  until  it  consents  to  do  so. 
Patients,  no  doubt,  try  to  follow  the  varying  regimen 
imposed  by  different  doctors,  but  it  is  difficult  to  do 
so  amid  all  the  temptations  of  a  go-as-you-please  bath- 
place.  A  general  regimen  of  diet  applicable  to  all 
visitors  is  the  only  safe  rule.     Under  such  eulight- 


314 


South  and  WeM. 


^w 


k\'   i 


■1 


ened  rules  as  prevail  at  Marienbad,  and  with  the  op- 
portunity for  mild  entertainment  in  pretty  shops, 
agreeable  walks  and  drives,  with  music  and  the  hun- 
dred devices  to  make  the  time  pass  pleasantly.  Hot 
Springs  would  become  one  of  the  most  important  san- 
itary resorts  in  the  world.  It  is  now  in  a  very  crude 
state  ;  but  it  has  the  water,  the  climate,  the  hills  and 
woods  ;  good  saddle-horses  are  to  be  had,  and  it  is  an 
interesting  country  to  ride  over  ;  those  who  frequent 
the  place  are  attached  to  it ;  and  time  and  taste  and 
money  will,  no  doubt,  transform  it  into  a  place  of 
beauty. 

Arkansas  surprised  the  world  by  the  exhibition  it 
made  of  itself  at  New  Orleans,  not  only  for  its  natural 
resources,  but  for  the  range  and  variety  of  its  pro- 
ductions. That  it  is  second  to  no  other  State  in  its 
adaptability  to  cotton-raising  was  known  ;  that  it  had 
magnificent  forests  and  large  coal-fields  and  valuable 
minerals  in  its  mountains  was  known ;  but  that  it 
raised  fruit  superior  to  any  other  in  the  South-west, 
and  quite  equal  to  any  in  the  North,  was  a  revelation. 
The  mountainous  part  of  the  State,  where  some  of  the 
hills  rise  to  the  altitude  of  2500  feet,  gives  as  good 
apples,  pears,  and  peaches  as  are  raised  in  any  portion 
of  the  Union  ;  indeed,  this  fruit  has  taken  the  first 
prize  in  exhibitions  from  Massachusetts  to  Texas.  It 
is  as  remarkable  for  flavor  and  firmness  as  it  is  for 
size  and  beauty.  This  region  is  also  a  good  vineyard 
country.  The  State  boasts  more  miles  of  navigable 
waters  than  any  other,  it  has  variety  of  soil  and  of 
surface  to  fit  it  for  every  crop  in  the  temperate  lati- 
tudes, and  it  has  a  very  good  climate.  The  range  of 
northern  rtiountains  protects  it  from  "  northers,"  and 


\r'\ 


?  I 


Memjphia  and  Little  Rock. 


315 


its  elevated  portions  have  cold  enough  for  a  tonic. 
Of  course  the  low  and  swampy  lands  arc  subject  to 
malaria.  The  State  has  just  begun  to  appreciate  itself, 
and  has  organized  efforts  to  promote  immigration.  It 
has  employed  a  competent  State  geologist,  who  is  do- 
inu:  excellent  service.  The  United  States  has  still  a 
large  quantity  of  valuable  land  in  the  State  open  to 
settlement  under  the  homestead  and  pre-emption  laws. 
The  State  itself  has  over  2,000,000  acres  of  land,  for- 
feited and  granted  to  it  in  various  ways  ;  of  this,  the 
land  forfeited  for  taxes  will  be  given  to  actual  settlers 
in  tracts  of  100  acres  to  each  })ersoji,  and  the  rest  can 
be  purchased  at  a  low  price.  I  cannot  go  into  all  the 
details,  but  the  reader  may  be  assured  that  the  innni- 
gration  committee  make  an  exceedingly  good  showing 
for  settlers  who  wish  to  engage  in  farming,  fruit-rais- 
inir,  mininfi:,  or  lumberinof.  The  Constitution  of  the 
State  is  very  democratic,  the  statute  laws  are  stringent 
ill  morality,  the  limitations  upon  town  and  city  in- 
debtedness are  severe,  the  rate  of  taxation  is  very  low, 
and  the  State  debt  is  small.  The  State,  in  short,  is  in 
a  good  condition  for  a  vigorous  development  of  its 
resources. 

There  is  a  popular  notion  that  Arkansas  is  a  "  bowie- 
knife"  State,  a  lawless  and  an  ignorant  State.  I 
shared  this  before  I  went  there.  I  cannot  disprove 
the  ignorance  of  the  country  districts.  As  I  said, 
more  money  is  needed  to  make  the  public-school  sys- 
tem effective.  But  in  its  general  aspect  the  State  is 
as  orderly  and  moral  as  any.  The  laws  against  car- 
rying concealed  weapons  are  strict,  and  are  enforced. 
It  is  a  fairly  temperate  State.  Under  the  high  license 
and  local  option  laws,  prohibition  prevails  in  two- 


( 

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316 


South  and  West. 


thirds  of  the  State,  and  the  popular  vote  is  strictly 
enforced.  In  forty-eight  o\  .  seventy-five  countiec. 
no  license  is  granted,  in  ot  counties  only  a  single 
town  votes  license,  and  in  many  of  the  remaining 
counties  many  towns  refuse  it.  In  five  counties  only 
is  liquor  perfectly  free.  A  special  law  prohibits 
liquor-selling  within  five  miles  of  a  college  ;  within 
three  miles  of  a  church  or  school,  a  majority  of  thf 
adult  inhabitants  can  prohibit  it.  With  regard  to 
liquor-selling,  woman  suffrage  practically  exists.  The 
law  says  that  on  petition  of  a  majority  of  the  adult 
population  in  any  district  the  county  judge  must  re- 
fuse license.  The  women,  therefore,  without  going 
into  politics,  sign  the  petitions  and  create  prohibition. 

The  street-cars  and  railways  make  no  discrimination 
as  to  color  of  passengers.  Everywhere  I  went  I  no- 
ticed that  the  intercourse  between  the  two  races  was 
friendly.  There  is  much  good  land  on  the  railway  be- 
tween Little  Rock  and  Arkansas  City,  heavily  tim- 
bered, especially  Avith  the  clean-boled,  stately  gum- 
trees.  At  Pine  Uluff,  which  has  a  population  of  5000, 
there  is  a  good  colored  Normal  School,  and  the  town 
has  many  prosperous  negroes,  who  support  a  race- 
track of  their  own,  and  keep  up  a  county  fair.  I  was 
told  that  the  most  enterprising  man  in  the  place,  the 
largest  street-railway  owner,  is  black  as  a  coal.  Far- 
ther down  the  road  the  country  is  not  so  good,  the 
houses  are  mostly  poor  shanties,  and  the  population, 
largely  colored,  appears  to  be  of  a  shiftless  character. 
Arkansas  City  itself,  low-lying  on  the  Mississippi,  has 
a  bad  reputation. 

Little  Rock,  already  a  railway  centre  of  importance, 
is  prosperous  and  rapidly  improving.     It  has  the  set- 


Memjphis  and  Little  Rock. 


317 


tied,  tem2)erate,  orderly  society  of  an  Eastern  town, 
but  democratic  in  its  habits,  and  with  a  cordial  hospi- 
tality which  is  more  provincial  than  fashionable.  I 
heard  there  a  good  chamber  concert  of  stringed  in- 
struments, one  of  a  series  which  had  been  kept  up  by 
subscription  all  winter,  and  would  continue  the  coming 
winter.  The  performers  were  young  Bohemians.  The 
gentleman  at  whose  pleasant,  old-fashioned  house  I 
was  entertained,  a  leading  lawyer  and  jurist  in  the 
South-west,  was  a  good  linguist,  had  travelled  in  most 
parts  of  the  civilized  globe,  had  on  his  table  the  cur- 
rent literature  of  France,  England,  Germany,  and 
America,  a  daily  Paris  newspaper,  one  New  York 
journal  (to  give  its  name  might  impugn  his  good  taste 
in  the  judgment  of  every  other  New  York  journal), 
and  a  very  large  and  well-selected  library,  two-thirds 
of  which  was  French,  and  nearly  half  of  the  remainder 
German.  This  was  one  of  the  many  things  I  found  in 
Arkansas  which  I  did  not  expect  to  find. 


^' 


^ ;  If  • 


'!    ! 


!^': 


i     i 


XIV. 
ST.  LOUIS  AND  KANSAS  CITY. 

St.  Louis  is  eighty  years  old.  It  was  incorporated 
as  a  town  in  1808,  thirteen  years  before  the  admission 
of  Missouri  into  tlic  Union  as  a  State.  In  1704  a 
company  of  thirty  Frenchmen  made  a  settlement  on  its 
site  and  gave  it  its  distinguished  name.  For  nearly 
half  a  century,  under  French  and  Spanish  jurisdiction 
alternately,  it  was  little  more  than  a  trading  post,  and 
at  the  beginning  of  this  century  it  contained  only 
about  a  thousand  inhabitants.  This  period,  however, 
gave  it  a  romantic  historic  background,  and  as  late  as 
1853,  when  its  population  was  a  hundred  thousand,  it 
preserved  French  characteristics  and  a  French  appear- 
ance— small  brick  houses  and  narrow  streets  crowded 
down  bv  the  river.  To  the  stranijer  it  was  the  Plant- 
ers'  Hotel  and  a  shoal  -f  big  steamboats  moored  along 
an  extensive  levee  roaring  with  river  traffic.  Crowded, 
ill-paved, dirty  streets,  a  few  country  houses  on  elevated 
sites,  a  population  forced  into  a  certain  activity  by 
trade,  but  hindered  in  municipal  improvement  by 
French  conservatism,  and  touched  with  the  rust  of  sla- 
very— tliat  was  the  St.  Louis  of  thirty-five  years  ago. 

Now  everything  is  changed  as  by  some  magic  touch. 
The  growth  of  the  city  has  always  been  solid,  unspecu- 
lative,  conservative  in  its  business  methods,  with  some 
persistence  of  the  old  French  influence,  only  gradually 
parting  frcrm  its  ancient  traditions,  preserving  always 


H 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


319 


something  of  the  aristocratic  flavor  of  "  old  families," 
accounted  "  slow  "  in  the  impatience  of  youth.  But 
it  has  burst  its  old  bounds,  and  grown  with  a  rapidity 
that  would  be  marvellous  in  any  other  country.  The 
levee  is  comparatively  deserted,  although  the  trade  on 
the  lower  river  is  actually  very  large.  The  traveller 
who  enters  the  city  from  the  east  passes  over  the  St. 
Louis  Bridge,  a  magnificent  structure  and  one  of  the 
engineering  wonders  of  the  modern  world,  plunges  into 
a  tunnel  under  the  business  portion  of  the  old  city,  and 
emerges  into  a  valley  covered  with  a  net-work  of  rail- 
way-tracks, and  occupied  by  apparently  interminable 
lines  of  passenger  coaches  and  freight  cars,  out  of  the 
confusion  of  which  he  makes  his  way  with  difliculty  to 
a  carriage,  impressed  at  once  by  the  enormous  railway 
traffic  of  the  city.  This  is  the  site  of  the  proposed 
Union  Depot,  which  waits  upon  the  halting  action  of 
the  Missouri  Pacific  system.  The  eastern  outlet  for 
all  this  growing  traftic  is  over  the  two  tracks  of  the 
bridge ;  these  arc  entirely  inadequate,  and  during  a 
portion  of  the  year  there  is  a  serious  blockade  of 
freight.  A  second  bridge  over  the  Mississippi  is  al- 
ready a  necessity  to  the  commerce  ox  the  city,  and  is 
certain  to  be  built  within  a  few  years. 

St.  Louis,  since  the  war,  has  spread  westward  over 
the  gentle  ridges  which  ])arallel  the  river,  and  become 
a  city  vast  in  territory  and  most  attractive  in  appear- 
ance. While  the  business  portion  has  expanded  into 
noble  avenues  with  stately  business  and  public  edifices, 
the  residence  parts  have  a  beauty,  in  handsome  streets 
and  varied  architecture,  that  is  a  continual  surprise  to 
one  who  has  not  seen  the  city  for  twenty  years.  I  had 
set  down  the  length  of  the  city  along  the  river-front 


■■> ' 


t*' 


■  i 
1 

Mli 

i\ 


320 


South  and  West. 


'i 


as  thirteen  miles,  with  a  depth  of  about  six  miles;  but 
the  official  statistics  are:  length  of  river-front,  19.15 
■iiles;  length  of  western  limits,  21.27;  extent  north 
and  south  in  an  air  line,  17;  and  length  east  and  west 
on  an  air  line,  G.62.  This  gives  an  area  of  61.37  square 
miles,  or  39,270  acres.  This  includes  the  public  parks 
(containing  2095  acres),  and  is  sufficient  room  for  the 
^u,  .HiJon  of  450,000,  which  the  city  doubtless  has  in 
IHo'*  ^V,-  the  United  States  census  of  1870  the  popula- 
tion wi;s  reported  much  larger  than  it  was,  the  figures 
-.rivi'ig  no  ;  .(^)t^^  been  manipulated  for  political  pur- 
poses. EL^iiii  I'g  the  natural  increase  from  this  false 
report,  the  ^i„y  h;i>.  led  to  claim  a  i)opulation  far  be- 
yond the  actual  number,  and  unjustly  suffered  a  little 
ridicule  for  a  mistake  for  which  it  was  not  responsible. 
The  United  States  census  of  1880  gave  it  350,522. 
During  the  eight  years  from  1880  there  were  erected 
18,574  new  dwelling-houses,  at  a  cost  of  over  fifty 
millions  of  dollars. 

The  great  territorial  extension  of  the  city  in  18  70 
was  for  a  time  a  disadvantage,  for  it  threw  upon  the 
city  the  care  of  enormous  street  extension s,raade  a  spo- 
radic movement  of  population  beyond  Grand  Avenue, 
which  left  hiatuses  in  improvement,  and  created  a  sort 
of  furor  of  fashion  for  getting  away  from  what  to  me 
is  still  the  most  attractive  residence  portion  of  the 
town,  namely,  the  elevated  ridges  west  of  Fourteenth 
Street,  crossed  by  Lucas  Place  and  adjoining  avenues. 
In  this  quarter,  and  east  of  Grand  Avenue,  are  fine 
high  streets,  with  detached  houses  and  grounds,  many 
of  them  both  elegant  and  comfortable,  and  this  is  tlie 
region  of  the  Washington  University,  some  of  the 
finest  cluU- houses,  and  handsomest  churches.     The 


'\ 


THE  PROPERTY  OF 

SUifiBOKO  HEGHAHIGS 

St.  Louis  and  Kansas  CliiL^  QTI'^^TE 

movements  of  city  populations,  however,  are  not  to  be 
accounted  for.  One  of  the  finest  parts  of  the  town, 
and  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  better  residence  parts,  that 
south  of  the  railways,  containing  broad,  well-planted 
avenues,  and  very  stately  old  homes,  and  the  exquisite 
Lafayette  Park,  is  almost  wholly  occupied  now  by 
Germans,  who  make  up  so  largo  a  i>roportion  of  the 
population. 

One  would  have  predicted  at  an  early  day  that  the 
sightly  bluffs  below  the  city  would  be  the  resort  of 
fashion,  and  be  occupied  with  fine  country  houses. 
But  the  movement  has  been  almost  altogether  west- 
ward and  away  from  the  river.  And  this  rolling, 
wooded  region  is  most  inviting,  elevated,  open,  cheer- 
ful. No  other  city  in  the  West  has  fairer  suburbs  for 
expansion  and  adornment,  and  its  noble  avenues,  dotted 
with  conspicuously  fine  residences,  give  j>romise  of 
great  beauty  and  elegance.  In  its  late  architectural 
development,  St.  Louis,  like  Chicago,  is  just  in  time  to 
escape  a  very  mediocre  and  merely  imitative  period 
in  American  building.  Beyond  Grand  Avenue  the 
stranger  will  be  shown  Vandeventer  Place,  a  semi- 
private  oblong  park,  surrounded  by  many  pretty  and 
some  notably  fine  residences.  Two  of  them  are  by 
Richardson,  and  the  city  has  other  specimens  of  his 
work.  I  cannot  refrain  from  again  speaking  of  the 
effect  that  this  original  genius  has  had  upon  American 
architecture,  especially  in  the  West,  when  money  and 
enterprise  afforded  him  free  scope.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  he  created  a  new  era,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  his  ideas  is  seen  everywhere  in  the  work  of 
architects  who  have  caught  his  spirit. 

The  city  has  addressed  itself  to  the  occupation  and 


'.V 


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322 


South  and  West. 


adornment  of  i'.s  great  territory  and  the  improvement 
of  its  most  travelled  thoroughfares  with  admirable  pub- 
lic spirit.  The  rolling  nature  of  the  ground  has  beon 
taken  advantage  of  to  give  it  a  nearly  perfect  systoin 
of  drainage  and  sewerage.  The  old  pavements  of  soft 
limestone,  which  were  dust  in  dry  weather  and  liquid 
mud  in  wet  weather,  are  being  replaced  by  granite  in 
the  business  parts  and  asphalt  and  wood  blocks  (laid 
on  a  concrete  base)  in  the  residence  portions.  Up  to 
the  beginning  of  1888  this  new  pavement  had  cost 
nearly  three  and  a  half  million  dollars,  and  over  thirty- 
three  miles  of  it  were  granite  blocks.  Street  railways 
have  also  been  pushed  all  over  the  territory.  The  total 
of  street  lines  is  already  over  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
four  miles,  and  over  thirty  miles  of  these  give  rajiid 
transit  by  cable.  These  facilities  make  the  whole  of 
the  wide  territory  available  for  business  and  residence, 
and  give  the  poorest  inhabitants  the  means  of  reach- 
ing the  parks. 

The  park  system  is  on  the  most  liberal  scale,  botli 
public  and  private;  the  parks  are  already  famous  for 
extent  and  beauty,  but  when  the  projected  connecting 
boulevards  are  made  they  will  attain  world  -  wide 
notoriety.  The  most  extensive  of  the  private  j)arks 
is  that  of  the  combined  Agricultural  Fair  Grounds 
and  Zoological  Gardens.  Here  is  held  annually  tin.' 
St.  Louis  Fair,  which  is  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the 
United  States.  The  enclosure  is  finely  laid  out  and 
planted,  and  contains  an  extensive  park,  exhibition 
buildings,  cottages,  a  race-track,  an  amphitheatre,  whidi 
suggests  in  size  and  construction  some  of  the  largest 
Spanish  l)ull-rings,  and  picturesque  houses  for  wiUl 
animals.     The  zoological  exhibition  is  a  very  good 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


323 


one.  There  arc  eighteen  public  parks.  One  of  the 
smaller  (thirty  acres)  of  these,  and  one  of  the  oldest, 
is  Lafayette  Park,  on  tlie  south  side.  Its  beauty  sur- 
prised me  more  than  almost  anything  I  saw  in  the 
city.  It  is  a  gem;  just  that  artificial  control  of  nature 
which  most  pleases — forest-trees,  a  pretty  lake,  fount- 
ains, flowers,  walks  planned  to  give  everywhere  ex- 
quisite vistas.  It  contains  a  statue  of  Thomas  II. 
lienton,  which  may  be  a  likeness,  but  utterly  fails  to 
give  the  character  of  the  man.  The  largest  is  Forest 
Park,  on  the  west  side,  a  tract  of  1372  acres,  mostly 
forest,  improved  by  excellent  drives,  and  left  as  much 
as  possible  in  a  natural  condition.  It  has  ten  miles 
of  good  driving-roads.  This  park  cost  the  city  about 
$850,000,  and  nearly  as  much  more  has  been  expended 
on  it  since  its  purchase.  The  surface  has  great  variety 
of  slopes,  glens,  elevations,  lakes,  and  meadows.  During 
the  summer  music  is  furnished  in  a  handsome  pagoda, 
and  the  place  is  much  resorted  to.  Fronting  the  boule- 
vard are  statues  of  Governor  Edward  Bates  and  Frank 
P.  Blair,  the  latter  very  characteristic. 

Next  in  importance  is  Tower  Grove  Park,  an  oblong 
of  27G  acres.  This  and  Shaw's  Garden,  adjoining, 
have  been  given  to  the  city  by  Mr.  Henry  Shaw,  an 
Englishman  who  made  his  fortune  in  the  city,  and 
they  remain  under  his  control  as  to  care  and  adorn- 
ment durinor  his  life.  Those  who  have  never  seen 
foreign  parks  and  pleasure-gardens  can  obtain  a  very 
good  idea  of  their  formal  elegance  and  impressiveness 
bv  visitins:  Tower  Grove  Park  and  the  Botanical  Gar- 
dens.  They  will  see  the  perfection  of  lawns,  avenues 
ornamented  bystatuary,flowor-beds,and  tasteful  walks. 
The  entrances,  with  stone  towers  and  lodges,  suggest 


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South  and  West. 


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similar  effects  in  France  and  in  l£nglancl.  About  the 
music-stand  are  wlnte  marble  busts  of  six  chief  musical 
composers.  The  drives  are  adorned  Avith  three  statues 
in  bronze,  thirty  feet  high, designed  and  cast  in  Munich 
by  Frederick  MClller.  They  are  figures  of  Shake- 
speare, Humboldt,  and  Columbus,  and  so  nobly  con- 
ceived and  executed  that  the  patriotic  American  must 
wish  they  had  been  done  in  this  country.  Of  Shaw's 
Botanical  Garden  I  need  to  say  little,  for  its  fame  as 
a  comprehensive  and  classified  collection  of  trees, 
plants,  and  flowers  is  world-wide.  It  has  no  equal  in 
this  country.  As  a  place  for  botanical  study  no  one 
appreciated  it  more  higlily  than  the  late  Professor  Asa 
Gray.  Sometimes  a  peculiar  classification  is  followed; 
one  locality  is  devoted  to  economic  plants — camphor, 
quinine,  cotton,  tea,  coffee,  etc. ;  another  to  "  Plants  of 
the  Bible."  The  space  of  fifty-four  acres,  enclosed  by 
high  stone  walls,  contains,  besides  the  open  garden  and 
allees  and  glass  houses,  the  summer  residence  and  the 
tomb  of  Mr.  Shaw.  This  old  gentleman,  still  vigor- 
ous in  his  eighty-eighth  year,  is  planning  new  adorn- 
ments in  the  way  of  statuary  and  busts  of  statesmen, 
poets,  and  scientists.  His  plans  are  all  liberal  and 
cosmopolitan.  For  over  thirty  years  his  botanical 
knowledge,  his  taste,  and  abundant  wealth  and  leisure 
have  been  devoted  to  the  creation  of  this  wonderful 
garden  and  park,  which  all  bear  the  stamp  of  his 
strong  individuality,  and  of  a  certain  pleasing  foreign 
formality.  What  a  source  of  unfailing  delight  it 
must  have  been  to  him!  As  we  sat  talking  with  hiia 
I  thought  how  other  millionaires,  if  they  knew  how, 
might  envy  a  matured  life,  after  the  struggle  for  a 
competency  is  over,  devoted  to  this  most  rational  en- 


1^ 

■   1 

1 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


323 


joyment,  in  an  occupation  as  clevatin£j  to  the  taste  as 
to  the  character,  and  having  in  mind  always  the  public 
good.  Over  the  entrance  gate  is  the  inscription, 
"Missouri  Botanical  Gardens,"  When  the  city  has 
full  control  of  the  garden  the  word  "  Missouri ''  should 
be  replaced  by  "  Shaw." 

The  money  expended  for  public  parks  gives  some 
idea  of  the  liberal  and  far-sighted  provision  for  the 
health  and  pleasure  of  a  great  city.  The  jjarks  orig- 
inally cost  the  city  61,309,944,  and  tliree  millions 
more  have  been  spent  upon  their  improvement  and 
maintenance.  This  indicates  an  enlightened  spirit, 
which  we  shall  see  characterizes  the  city  in  other 
things,  and  is  evidence  of  a  high  degree  of  culture. 

Of  the  commerce  and  manufactures  of  the  town  I 
can  give  no  adequate  statement  without  going  into 
details,  which  my  space  forbids.  The  importance  of 
the  Mississippi  River  is  much  emphasized,  not  only 
as  an  actual  highway  of  traffic,  but  as  a  regulator  of 
railway  rates.  The  town  has  by  the  official  reports 
been  discriminated  against,  and  even  the  Inter-State 
Act  has  not  afforded  all  the  relief  expected.  In  1887 
the  city  shipped  to  foreign  markets  by  Avay  of  the 
Mississippi  and  the  jetties  3,97.3,000  bushels  of  wheat 
and  7,365,000  bushels  of  corn — a  larger  exportation 
than  ever  before  except  in  the  years  1880  and  1881. 
An  outlet  like  this  is  of  course  a  check  on  railway 
charges.  The  trade  of  the  place  employs  a  banking 
capital  of  fifteen  millions.  The  deposits  in  1887  were 
thirty-seven  millions;  the  clearings  over  $894,527,731 
— the  largest  ever  reached,  and  over  ten  per  cent,  in 
excess  of  the  clearings  of  188G.  To  whatever  depart- 
ments I  turn  in  the  report  of  the  Merchants'   Ex- 


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South  and  West. 


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change  for  1887  I  find  a  vigorous  growth—  buihl. 

ing — and  in  most  articles  of  commerce  agrcuu  increase. 
It  a|)i)ear8  by  the  tonnage  statements  tliat,  taking 
receipts  and  shipments  togetlier,  12,000,99.5  tons  of 
freigljt  were  handled  in  and  out  during  1880,  against 
14,359,059  tons  in  1887 — a  gain  of  nineteen  and  a  half 
per  cent.  The  buildings  hi  1880  cost  -^7,030,819;  in 
1887,  $8,102,914.  There  were  $44,740  more  stamps 
sold  at  the  post-office  in  1887  than  in  1880.  The 
custom-house  collections  were  less  than  in  1880,  but 
reached  the  figures  of  $1,414,747.  The  assessed  value 
of  real  and  personal  property  in  1887  was  $217,142,- 
320,  on  which  the  rate  of  taxation  in  th  Id  city 
limits  Avas  $2.50. 

It  is  never  my  intention  in  these  papers  to  mention 
individual  enterprises  for  their  own  sake,  but  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  do  so  when  it  is  necessary  in  order  to  illus- 
trate some  peculiar  development.  It  is  a  curious 
matter  of  observation  that  so  many  Western  cities 
have  one  or  more  specialties  in  which  they  excel — 
houses  of  trade  or  manufacture  larger  and  more  im- 
portant than  can  be  found  elsewhere.  St.  Louis  finds 
itself  in  this  category  in  regard  to  several  establish- 
ments. One  of  these  is  a  wooden-ware  company,  the 
largest  of  the  sort  in  the  country,  a  house  which 
gathers  its  peculiar  goods  from  all  over  the  United 
States,  and  distributes  them  almost  as  widely — a  busi- 
ness of  gigantic  proportions  and  bewildering  detail. 
Its  annual  sales  amount  to  as  much  as  the  sales  of  all 
the  houses  in  its  line  in  New  York,  Chicago,  and  Cin- 
cinnati together.  Another  is  a  hardware  cora])any, 
wholesale  ^nd  retail,  also  the  largest  of  its  kind  in  the 
country,  with  sales  annually  amounting  to  six  mill- 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


327 


ions  of  (lollar.s,  a  very  largo  amount  when  we  con- 
siJcr  that  it  is  made  up  of  an  infinite  numlu'r  of 
small  and  cheap  articles  in  iron,  from  a  (ish-hook  up — 
indeed,  over  fifty  thousand  separate  articles.  I  spent 
half  a  day  in  this  estahlishment,  walkincf  throuiifh  its 
dei>artments,  noting?  the  une(pialled  system  of  com- 
pact display,  classification,  and  methods  of  sale  and 
shipment.  JMereiy  as  a  method  of  system  in  busi- 
ness I  liavo  never  seen  anything  more  interesting. 
Anotiier  establishment,  im})ortant  on  account  of  its 
central  position  in  the  continent  and  its  relation  to 
the  Louisiana  sugar-fields,  is  the  St.  Louis  Sugar  Re- 
finery. 

The  refinery  proper  is  the  largest  building  in  the 
Western  country  used  for  manufacturing  purposes, 
and,  together  with  its  adjuncts  of  cooper-shops  and 
warehouses,  covers  five  entire  blocks  and  employs  500 
men.  It  has  a  capacity  of  working  up  400  tons  of 
raw  sugar  a  day,  but  runs  only  to  the  extenu  of  about 
200  tons  a  day,  making  the  value  of  its  jtresent  i»rod- 
uct  87,500,000  a  year. 

During  the  winter  and  spring  it  uses  Louisiana 
sugars ;  the  remainder  of  the  year,  sugars  of  Cuba 
and  the  Sandwich  Islands.  Like  all  other  refineries 
of  which  I  have  inquired,  this  reckons  the  advent 
of  the  Louisiana  crop  as  an  important  regulator  of 
prices.  This  establishment,  in  common  witli  other 
industries  of  the  city,  has  had  to  complain  of  busi- 
ness somewhat  hampered  by  discrimination  in  railway 
rates.  St.  Louis  also  has  what  I  suppose,  from  the 
figures  accessible,  to  be  the  largest  lager-beer  brew- 
ing establishment  in  the  world  ;  its  solid,  gigantic, 
and  architecturally  imposing  buildings  lift  themselves 


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South  and  West. 


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up  like  ;i  fortress  over  the  thirty  acres  of  ground  they 
cover.  Its  manufacture  and  sales  in  1887  were  456,- 
511  barrels  of  beer — an  increase  of  nearly  100,000 
since  1885-86.  It  exports  largely  to  Mexico,  South 
America,  the  West  Indies,  and  Australia.  The  es- 
tablishment is  a  marvel  of  syfiera  and  ingenious  de- 
vices. It  employs  1200  laborers,  to  whom  it  pays 
8500,u00  a  year.  Some  of  the  details  are  of  interest. 
In  the  bottling  department  we  saw  workmen  filling, 
corking,  labelling,  and  packing  at  the  rate  of  100,000 
bottles  a  day.  In  a  year  25,000,000  bottles  are  used, 
packed  in  400,000  barrels  and  boxes.  The  consump- 
tion of  barley  is  1,100,000  bushels  yearly,  and  of 
hops  over  700,000  pounds,  and  the  amount  of  water 
used  for  all  pui'poses  is  250,000,000  gallons — nearly 
enough  to  float  our  navy.  The  charges  for  freiglit 
received  and  shipped  by  rail  amount  to  nearly  a  mill- 
ion dollars  a  year.  There  are  several  other  large  brew- 
eries in  the  city.  The  total  product  manufactured 
in  1887  was  1,383,361  barrels,  equal  to  43,575,872 
gallons — more  than  three  times  the  amount  of  1877. 
The  barley  used  in  the  city  and  vicinity  was  2,932,- 
192  bushels,  of  which  340,335  bushels  came  from 
Canada.  The  direct  export  of  beer  during  1887  to 
foreign  countries  was  equal  to  1,924,108  quart  bottles. 
The  greater  part  of  the  barley  used  comes  from  Iowa, 
Minnesota,  and  Wisconsin. 

It  is  useless  to  enumerate  the  many  railways  which 
touch  and  affect  St.  Louis.  The  most  considerable  is 
the  agglomeration  known  as  the  Missouri  Pacific,  or 
South-western  System,  *Nvhich  operated  6994  miles  of 
road  on  January  1,  1888.  This  great  aggregate  is 
likely  to  be  much  diminished  by  the  surrender  of 


ii; 


St.  Zouis  and  Kansas  City. 


329 


lines,  but  the  railway  facilities  of  the  city  are  con- 
stantly extendi  ing. 

Tliere  are  tigures  enough  to  show  that  St.  Louis  is 
a  prosperous  city,  constantly  developing  new  enter- 
prises with  fresh  energy  ;  to  walk  its  liantlsome 
streets  and  drive  about  its  great  avenues  and  parks  is 
to  obtain  an  impression  of  a  cheerful  town  on  the  way 
to  be  most  attractive  ;  but  its  chief  distinction  lies  in 
its  social  and  intellectual  life,  and  in  the  spirit  that 
has  made  it  a  pioneer  in  so  many  educational  move- 
ments. It  seems  to  me  a  very  good  place  to  study 
the  influence  of  speculative  thought  in  economic  and 
practical  affairs.  Tlie  question  I  am  oftenest  asked 
is,  whether  the  little  knot  of  speculative  philosophers 
accidentally  gathered  there  a  few  years  ago,  and  who 
gave  a  sort  of  fame  to  the  city,  have  had  any  perma- 
nent influence.  For  years  they  discussed  abstrac- 
tions ;  they  sustained  for  some  time  a  very  remark- 
able periodical  of  speculative  philosophy,  and  in  a 
limited  sphere  they  maintained  an  elevated  tone  of 
thought  and  life  quite  in  contrast  with  our  general 
materialism.  The  circle  is  broken,  the  members  are 
scattered.  Probably  the  town  never  understood  them, 
perhaps  they  did  not  altogether  understand  each 
other,  and  maybe  the  tremendous  conflict  of  Kant 
and  Hegel  settled  nothing.  But  if  there  is  anvthing 
that  can  be  demonstrated  in  this  world  it  is  the  in- 
fluence of  abstract  thought  upon  practical  affairs  in 
the  long-run.  And  although  one  may  not  be  able  to 
point  to  any  definite  thing  created  or  established  by 
this  metaphysical  movement,  I  think  I  can  see  that  it 
was  a  leaven  that  had  a  marked  effect  in  the  social, 
and  especially  in  the  educational,  life  of  the  town,  and 


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330 


South  and  West. 


W 


liberalized  minds,  and  opened  the  way  for  the  trial  of 
theories  in  education.  One  of  the  disciples  declares 
that  the  State  Constitution  of  Missouri  and  the  char- 
ter of  St.  Louis  are  distinctly  IIe<2relian.  However  this 
may  be,  both  these  organic  laws  are  uncommonly  wise 
in  their  provisions.  A  study  of  the  evolution  of  tlie 
city  government  is  one  of'  the  most  interesting  that 
the  student  can  make.  Many  of  the  provisions  of 
the  charter  are  admirable,  such  as  those  securing 
honest  elections,  furnishing  financial  checks,  and 
guarding  against  public  debt.  The  mayor  is  elected 
for  four  years,  and  the  important  offices  filled  by  his 
appointment  are  not  vacant  until  the  beginning  of 
the  third  year  of  his  appointment,  so  that  hope  of 
reward  for  political  work  is  too  dim  to  affect  the  mer- 
its of  an  election.  The  composition  and  election  of 
the  school  board  is  also  worthy  of  notice.  Of  the 
twenty-one  members,  seven  are  elected  on  a  general 
ticket,  and  the  remaining  fourteen  by  districts,  made 
by  consolidating  the  twenty-eight  city  wards,  mem- 
bers to  serve  four  vears,  divided  into  two  classes. 
This  arrangement  secures  immunity  from  the  ward 
politician. 

St.  Louis  is  famous  for  its  public  schools,  and  es- 
pecially for  the  enlightened  methods,  and  the  willing- 
ness to  experiment  in  improving  them.  The  school 
expenditures  for  the  year  ending  June  30,  1887,  were 
$1,095, 773  ;  the  school  property  in  lots,  buildings, 
and  furniture  in  1885  was  estimated  at  $3,445,254, 
The  total  number  of  pupils  enrolled  was  56,930. 
These  required  about  1200  teachers,  of  whom  over  a 
thousand  were  women.  The  actual  average  of  pujiils 
to  each  teacher  was  about  42.     There  were  106  school 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


331 


buildings,  with  a  seating  capacity  for  about  50,000 
scholars.  Of  the  district  schools  13  were  colored,  in 
which  were  employed  78  colored  teachers.  The  sal- 
aries of  teachers  are  progressive,  according  to  length 
of  service.  As  for  instance,  the  principal  of  the 
High-school  has  $2400  the  first  year,  $2500  the  sec- 
ond, $2600  the  third,  $2750  the  fourth  ;  a  head  as- 
sistant in  a  district  school,  $650  the  first  year,  $700 
the  second,  $750  the  third,  $800  the  fourth,  $850  the 
fifth. 

The  few  schools  that  I  saw  fully  sustained  their 
public  reputation  as  to  methods,  discipline,  and  at- 
tainments. The  Normal  School,  of  something  over 
100  pupils,  nearly  all  the  girls  being  graduates  of  the 
High-school,  was  admirable  in  drill,  in  literary  train- 
ing, in  calisthenic  exercises.  The  High-school  is  also 
admirable,  a  school  with  a  thoroughly  elevated  tone 
and  an  able  principal.  Of  the  600  pupils  at  least 
two-thirds  were  girls.  From  appearances  I  should 
judge  that  it  is  attended  by  children  of  the  most  in- 
telligent families,  for  certainly  the  girls  of  the  junior 
and  senior  classes,  in  manner,  looks,  dress,  and  attain- 
ments, compared  favorably  with  those  of  one  of  the 
best  girls'  schools  I  have  seen  anywhere,  the  Mary 
Institute,  which  is  a  department  of  the  Washington 
University.  This  fact  is  most  important,  for  the  ex- 
cellence of  our  public  schools  (for  the  product  of 
good  men  and  women)  depends  largely  upon  their 
popularity  with  the  well-to-do  classes.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  schools  I  saw  was  the  Jefferson,  pre- 
sided over  by  a  woman,  having  fine  fire-proof  build- 
ings and  1100  pupils,  nearly  all  whom  are  of  foreign 
parentage — German,  Russian,  and  Italian,  with  many 


V, 


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ii 


332 


South  and  West. 


i>  > 


Hebrews  also — a  finely  ordered,  wide-awake  school  of 
eight  grades.  The  kindergarten  here  was  the  best  I 
saw;  good  teachers,  bright  and  happy  little  children, 
with  natural  manners,  throwing  themselves  gracefully 
into  their  games  with  enjoyment  and  without  self- 
consciousness,  and  exhibiting  exceedingly  pretty  fan- 
cy and  kindergarten  work.  In  St.  Louis  the  kinder- 
garten is  a  part  of  the  public-school  system,  and  the 
experiment  is  one  of  general  interest.  The  question 
cannot  be  called  settled.  In  the  first  place  the  ex- 
periment is  hampered  in  St.  Louis  by  a  decision  of 
the  Supreme  Court  that  the  public  money  cannot  be 
used  for  children  out  of  the  school  age,  that  is,  under 
six  and  over  twenty.  This  prevents  teaching  Englitili 
to  adult  foreigners  in  the  evening  schools,  and,  rigidly 
applied,  it  shuts  out  pupils  from  the  kindergarten  un- 
der six.  One  advantage  from  the  kindergarten  was 
expected  to  be  an  extension  of  the  school  period;  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  kindergarten  instruction 
ought  to  begin  before  the  age  of  six,  especially  for 
the  mass  of  children  who  miss  home  training  and 
homo  care.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  many  of  the  chil- 
dren I  saw  in  the  kindergartens  were  only  construct- 
ively six  years  old.  It  cannot  be  said,  also,  that  the 
Froebel  system  is  fully  understood  or  accepted.  In 
my  observation,  the  success  of  the  kindergarten  de- 
pends entirely  upon  the  teacher;  where  she  is  compe- 
tent, fully  believes  in  and  understands  the  Froebel 
system,  and  is  enthusiastic,  the  pupils  are  interested 
and  alert;  otherwise  they  are  listless,  and  fail  to  get 
the  benefit  of  it.  The  Froebel  system  is  the  develop- 
ing the  concrete  idea  in  education,  and  in  the  opinion 
of  his  disciples  this  is  as  important  for  children  of  the 


St.  Zouia  and  Kansas  City. 


333 


intelligent  and  well-to-do  as  for  those  of  the  poor  and 
ignorant.  They  resist,  therefore,  the  attempt  which 
is  constantly  made,  to  introduce  the  primary  work 
into  the  kindergarten.  But  for  the  six  years'  limit 
the  kindergarten  in  St.  Louis  would  have  a  better 
chance  in  its  connection  with  the  public  schools.  As 
the  majority  of  children  leave  school  for  work  at  the 
age  of  twelve  or  fourteen,  there  is  little  time  enough 
given  for  book  education;  many  educators  think  time 
is  wasted  in  the  kindergarten,  and  they  advocate  the 
introduction  of  what  they  call  kindergarten  features 
in  the  primary  classes.  This  is  called  by  the  disci- 
ples of  Froebel  an  entire  abandonment  of  his  system. 
I  sliould  like  to  see  the  kindergarten  in  connection 
with  the  public  school  tried  long  enough  to  demon- 
strate all  that  is  claimed  for  it  in  its  influence  on 
mental  development,  character,  and  manners,  but  it 
seems  unlikely  to  be  done  in  St.  Louis,  unless  the 
public-school  year  begins  at  least  as  early  as  five,  or, 
better  still,  is  specially  unlimited  for  kindergarten 
pupils. 

Except  in  the  primary  work  in  drawing  and  model- 
ling, there  is  no  manual  training  feature  in  the  St. 
Louis  public  schools.  The  teaching  of  German  i"*  re- 
cently dropped  from  all  the  district  schools  (though 
retained  in  the  High),  in  accordance  with  the  well- 
founded  idea  of  Americanizing  our  foreign  popula- 
tion as  rapidly  as  possible. 

One  of  the  most  important  institutions  in  the  Missis- 
sippi Valley,  and  one  that  exercises  a  decided  influence 
upon  the  intellectual  and  social  life  of  St.  Louis,  and  is 
a  fair  measure  of  its  culture  and  the  value  of  the  high- 
er education,  is  the  Washington  University,  which  was 


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334 


South  and  West. 


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incorporated  in  1853,  and  was  presided  over  until  his 
death,  in  1887,  by  the  late  Chancellor  William  Green- 
leaf  Eliot,  of  revered  memory.  It  covers  the  whole 
range  of  university  studies,  except  theology,  and  al- 
lows no  instruction  either  sectarian  in  religion  or  par- 
tisan in  politics,  nor  the  application  of  any  sectarian 
or  party  test  in  the  election  of  professors,  teachers,  or 
officers.  Its  real  estate  and  buildings  in  use  for  edu- 
cational purposes  cost  !Si625,000;  its  libraries,  scientific 
apparatus,  casts,  and  machinery  cost  over  8160,000,  an<l 
it  has  investments  for  revenue  amounting  to  over  $650,- 
000.  The  University  comprehends  an  undergraduate 
d'^partment,  including  the  college  (a  thorough  class- 
ical, literary,  and  philosophical  course,  with  about  six- 
ty students),  open  to  women,  and  the  polytechnic,  an 
admirably  equipped  school  of  science;  the  St.  Louis 
Law  School, of  excellent  reputation;  the  Manual  Train- 
ing School,  the  most  celebrated  school  of  this  sort,  and 
one  that  has  furnished  more  manual  training  teachers 
than  any  other;  the  Henry  Shaw  School  of  Botany; 
the  St.  Louis  School  of  Fine  Arts;  the  Smith  Acad- 
emy, for  boys ;  and  the  Mary  Institute,  one  of  the 
roomiest  and  most  cheerful  school  buildings  I  know, 
where  400  girls,  whose  collective  appearance  need  not 
fear  comparison  with  any  in  the  countr^'^,  enjoy  the 
best  educational  advantages.  Mary  Institute  is  justly 
the  pride  of  the  city. 

The  School  of  Botany,  which  is  endowed  and  has 
its  own  laboratory,  workshop,  and  working  library, 
was,  of  course,  the  outgrowth  of  the  Shaw  Botanical 
Garden;  it  has  usually  from  twenty  to  thirty  special 
students. 

The  School  of  Fine  Arts,  which  was  reorganized 


M'arv 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


335 


under  the  University  in  1879,  has  enrolled  over  200 
students,  and  gives  a  wide  and  careful  training  in  all 
the  departments  of  drawing,  painting,  and  modelling, 
with  instructions  iu  anatomy,  perspective,  and  compo- 
sition, and  has  life  classes  for  both  sexes,  in  drawing 
from  draped  and  nude  figures.  Its  lecture,  working 
rooms,  and  galleries  of  paintings  and  casts  are  in  its 
Crow  Art  Museum — a  beautiful  building,  well  planned 
and  justly  distinguished  for  architectural  excellence. 
It  ranks  among  the  best  Art  buildings  iu  the  country. 
The  Manual  Training  School  has  been  in  operation 
since  1880.  It  may  be  called  the  most  fully  developed 
pioneer  institution  of  the  sort.  I  spent  some  time  in 
its  workshops  and  schools,  thinking  of  the  very  inter- 
esting question  at  the  bottom  of  the  experiment,  nanic- 
Ij^the  mental  development  involved  in  the  training  of 
the  hand  and  tlie  eye,  and  the  reflex  liolp  to  manual 
skill  in  the  purely  intellectual  training  of  study.  It  is, 
it  may  be  said  again,  not  the  purpose  of  the  modern 
manual  training  to  teach  a  trade,  but  to  teach  the  uhc 
of  tools  as  an  aid  in  the  symmetrical  development  of 
the  human  being.  Tiie  students  here  certainly  do  beau- 
tiful work  in  wood-turning  and  simple  carving,  iu  iron- 
work and  forging.  They  enjoy  the  work ;  they  are 
alert  and  interested  in  it.  I  am  certain  that  they  are 
the  more  interested  in  it  in  seeing  how  they  can  work 
out  and  apply  what  they  have  learned  in  books,  and  I 
doubt  not  they  take  hold  of  literary  study  more  fresh- 
ly for  this  manual  training  in  exactness.  The  scliool 
exacts  close  and  thoughtful  study  with  tools  as  well  as 
in  books,  and  I  can  believe  that  it  gives  dignity  iu  the 
opinion  of  the  working  student  to  hand  labor.  The 
school  is  large,  its  graduates  have  been  generally  suc- 


.  i 


336 


South  and  West. 


• « 


cessf  111  in  practical  pursuits  and  in  teacliing,  and  it  has 
demonstrated  in  itself  the  correctness  of  the  theory  of 
its  authors,  that  intellectual  drill  and  manual  traininjr 
are  mutually  advantageous  together.  Whether  nia;;- 
ual  training  shall  be  a  part  of  all  district  school  edu- 
cation is  a  question  involving  mr.ny  considerations  that 
do  not  enter  into  the  practicability  of  this  school,  but 
I  have  no  doubt  that  manual  training  schools  of  this 
sort  would  be  immensely  useful  in  every  city.  There 
are  many  boys  in  every  community  who  cannot  in  any 
other  way  be  awakened  to  any  real  study.  This  train- 
ing school  deserves  a  chapter  by  itself,  and  as  I  have 
no  space  for  details,  I  take  the  liberty  of  referring  those 
interested  to  a  volume  on  its  aims  and  methods  by  Dr. 
C.  M.Woodward,  its  director. 

Notwithstanding  the  excellence  of  the  public-school 
system  of  St.  Louis,  there  is  no  other  city  in  the 
country,  except  New  Orleans,  where  so  large  a  propor- 
tion of  the  youths  are  being  educated  outside  the 
public  schools.  A  very  considerable  portion  of  the 
population  is  Catholic.  There  are  forty-four  parochi- 
al schools,  attended  by  nineteen  thousand  pupils,  and 
over  a  dozen  different  Sisterhoods  are  engaged  in 
teaching  in  them.  Generally  each  parochial  school 
has  two  departments — one  for  boys  and  one  for  girls. 
They  are  sustained  entirely  by  the  parishes.  In  these 
schools,  as  in  the  two  Catholic  universities,  the  prom- 
inence of  ethical  and  religious  training  is  to  be  noted. 
Seven- eighths  of  the  schools  are  in  charge  of  thor- 
oughly trained  religious  teachers.  Many  of  the  boys' 
schools  are  taught  by  Christian  Brothers.  The  girls 
are  almost  invariably  taught  by  members  of  religious 
Sisterhoods.     In  most  of  the   German  schools  the 


lii 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


337 


\  S  i 


fjirls  and  smaller  boys  are  taught  by  Sisters,  the 
larger  boys  by  lay  teachers.  Some  reports  of  school 
attendance  are  given  in  the  Catholic  Directory  :  SS. 
Peter  and  Paul's  (German),  1300  pupils  ;  St.  Joseph's 
(German),  957 ;  St.  Bridget's,  950;  St.  Malachy's,  750 ; 
St.  John's,  700  ;  St.  Patrick's,  7o6.  There  is  a  school 
for  colored  children  of  150  pupils  taught  by  colored 
Sisters. 

In  addition  to  these  parochial  schools  there  are  a 
dozen  academies  and  convents  of  higher  education  for 
young  ladies,  all  under  charge  of  Catholic  Sister- 
hoods, commonly  with  a  mixed  attendance  of  board- 
ers and  day  scholars,  and  some  of  them  with  a  repu- 
tation for  learning  that  attracts  pupils  from  other 
States,  notably  the  Academy  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  St. 
Joseph's  Academy,  and  the  Academy  of  the  Visita- 
tion, in  charge  of  cloistered  nuns  of  that  order.  Be- 
sides these,  in  connection  with  various  reformatory 
and  charitable  institutions,  such  as  the  House  of  the 
(irood  Shepherd  and  St.  Mary's  Orphan  Asylum,  there 
are  industrial  schools  in  charge  of  the  Sisterhoods, 
where  girls  receive,  in  addition  to  their  education, 
training  in  some  industry  to  maintain  themselves  re- 
spectably when  they  leave  their  temporary  homes. 
Statistics  are  wanting,  but  it  will  be  readily  inferred 
from  these  statements  that  there  are  in  the  city  a 
great  number  of  single  women  devoted  for  life,  and 
by  special  religious  and  intellectual  training,  to  the 
office  of  teaching. 

For  the  higher  education  of  Catholic  young  men 
the  city  is  distinguished  by  two  remarkable  institu- 
tions. The  one  is  the  old  St.  Louis  University,  and 
the  other  is  the  Christian  Brothers'  College.  The 
22 


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338 


South  and  West. 


W"  '' 


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latter,  which  a  few  years  ago  outgrew  its  old  build- 
ings in  the  city,  has  a  fine  pile  of  buildings  at  Cute 
Brillante,  on  a  commanding  site  about  five  miles  out, 
with  ample  grounds,  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  tlu' 
great  parks  and  the  Botanical  Garden.  The  charac- 
ter of  the  school  is  indicated  by  the  motto  on  tiie 
fa5ade  of  the  building  —  Jleli(/io,  Mores^  Oultura. 
The  institution  is  designed  to  accommodate  a  thou- 
saml  boarding  students.  The  present  attendance  is 
450,  about  half  of  whom  are  boarders,  and  represent 
twenty  States.  There  is  a  corps  of  thirty -five  pro- 
fessors, and  three  courses  of  study  are  maintained — 
the  classical,  the  scientific,  and  the  commercial.  As 
several  of  the  best  parochial  schools  are  in  charge  of 
Christian  Brothers,  these  schools  are  feeders  of  the 
college,  and  the  pupils  have  the  advantage  of  an  un- 
broken system  with  a  consistent  purpose  from  the 
day  they  enter  into  the  primary  department  till  they 
graduate  at  the  college.  The  order  has,  at  Glencoc,  a 
large  Normal  School  for  the  training  of  teachers. 
The  fame  and  success  of  the  Christian  Brothers  as  ed- 
ucators in  elementary  and  the  higher  education,  in  Eu- 
rope and  the  United  States,  is  largoly  due  to  the  fact 
that  they  labor  as  a  unit  in  a  system  that  never  varies 
in  its  methods  of  imparting  instruction,  in  which  the 
exponents  of  it  have  all  undergone  the  same  peda- 
gogic training,  in  which  there  is  no  room  for  the  per- 
sonal fancy  of  the  teacher  in  correction,  discipline,  or 
scholarship,  for  everything  is  judiciously  governed  by 
prescribed  modes  of  procedure,  founded  on  long  ex- 
perience, and  exemplified  in  the  co-operative  plan  of 
the  Brothers.  In  vindication  of  the  exceptional  skill 
acquired,  by  its  teachers  in  the  thorough  drill  of  the 


*:\ 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


33J» 


order,  the  Brotherliood  points  to  the  success  of  its 
graduates  in  competitive  examinations  for  public  em- 
ployment in  this  country  and  in  Europe,  and  to  the 
commendation  its  educational  exhibits  received  at 
London  and  New  Orleans. 

The  St.  Louis  University,  founded  in  1829  by  mem- 
bers of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  and  chartered  in  1834,  is 
officered  and  controlled  by  the  Jesuit  Fathers.  It  is 
an  unendowed  institution,  depending  upon  fees  paid 
for  tuition.  Before  the  war  its  students  were  large- 
ly the  children  of  Southern  planters,  and  its  graduates 
are  found  all  over  the  South  and  South-west ;  and 
up  to  1881  the  pupils  boarded  and  lodged  within  the 
precincts  of  the  old  buildings  on  the  corner  of  Ninth 
Street  and  Washington,  Avhere  for  over  half  a  cen- 
tury the  school  has  vigorously  flourished.  The  place, 
which  is  now  sold  and  about  to  be  used  for  business 
purposes,  has  a  certain  flavor  of  antique  scholarship, 
and  the  quaint  buildings  keep  in  mind  the  plain  but 
rather  pleasing  architecture  of  the  French  period. 
Tiie  University  is  in  process  of  removal  to  the  new 
buildings  on  Grand  Avenue,  which  are  a  conspicuous 
ornament  to  one  of  the  most  attractive  parts  of  the 
city.  Soon  nothing  will  be  left  of  the  institution  on 
Ninth  Street  except  the  old  college  church,  which  is 
still  a  favorite  place  of  worship  for  the  Catholics  of 
the  city.  The  new  buildings,  in  the  early  decorated 
English  Gothic  style,  are  ample  and  imposing  ;  they 
have  a  front  of  270  feet,  and  the  northern  wing  ex- 
tends 325  feet  westward  from  the  avenue.  The  li- 
brary, probably  the  finest  room  of  the  kind  in  the 
West,  is  sixty-seven  feet  high,  amply  lighted,  and  pro- 
vided with  three  balconies.     The  library,  which  was 


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340 


South  and  West. 


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packed  for  removal,  has  over  25,000  volumes,  is  said 
to  contain  many  rare  and  interesting  books,  and  to 
fairly  represent  science  and  literature.  Besides  this, 
there  are  special  libraries,  open  to  students,  of  over 
0000  volumes.  The  museum  of  the  new  building  is  a 
noble  hall,  one  hundred  feet  by  sixty  feet,  and  fifty- 
two  feet  high,  without  columns,  and  lighted  from 
above  and  from  the  side.  The  University  has  a  valu- 
able collection  of  ores  and  minerals,  and  other  objects 
of  nature  and  art  that  will  be  deposited  in  this  hall, 
which  will  also  serve  as  a  picture-gallery  for  the 
many  paintings  of  historical  interest.  Philosophical 
apparatus,  a  chemical  laboratory,  and  an  astronomical 
observatory  are  the  equipments  on  the  scientific  side. 
The  University  has  now  no  dormitories  and  no  board- 
ers. There  are  twenty -five  professors  and  instruct- 
ors. The  entire  course,  including  the  preparatory,  is 
seven  years.  A  glance  at  the  catalogue  shows  that 
in  the  curriculum  the  institution  keeps  pace  with  the 
demands  of  the  age.  Besides  the  preparatory  course 
(89  pupils),  it  has  a  classical  course  (143  ])upils),  an 
English  course  (82  pupils),  and  85  post-graduate  stu- 
dents, making  a  total  of  399.  Its  students  form  so- 
cieties for  various  purposes  ;  one,  the  Sodality  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  with  distinct  orn-ini/-  ,>ns  in 
the  senior  and  junior  classes,  i"^  fo'  .tioii  of 

piety  and  the  practice  of  de^  is         Blessed 

Virgin  ;  another  is  for  tr.  .jg  in  iblii  vspeaking 
and  philosophic  and  literar,  dispniation  ;  there  is 
also  a  scientific  academy,  to  foster  i  taste  for  scien- 
tific culture  ;  and  there  is  a  student's  library  of  4000 
volumes,  independent  of  the  religious  books  of  th( 
Sodality,  societies. 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


341 


In  a  conversation  with  tho  president  I  learned  that 
the  prevailing  idea  in  tho  courses  of  study  is  the  grad- 
ual and  healthy  development  of  the  mind.  The  class- 
es are  carefully  graded.  Tho  classics  aro  favorite 
hranches,  hut  mental  philosophy,  chemistry,  physics, 
astronomy,  are  taught  with  a  view  to  practical  appli- 
cation. jVIuch  stress  is  laid  upon  mathematics.  Dur- 
ing tho  whole  cotirso  of  seven  years,  one  hour  eac'a 
day  is  devoted  to  this  branch.  In  short,  I  was  im- 
pressed with  the  fact  that  this  is  an  institution  for 
mental  training.  Still  more  was  I  struck  with  the 
prominence  in  the  whole  course  of  ethical  and  religious 
culture.  On  assembling  every  morning,  all  the  Catho- 
lic students  hear  mass.  In  every  class  in  every  year 
Christian  doctrine  has  as  prominent  a  ])lace  as  any 
branch  of  study;  beginning  in  the  elementary  class 
with  the  small  catechism  and  practical  instructions  in 
the  manner  of  reciting  the  ordinary  prayers,  it  goes 
on  through  the  whole  range  of  doctrine — creed,  evi- 
dences, ritual,  ceremonial,  mysteries — in  tho  minutest 
details  of  theory  and  practice  ;  ingraining,  so  far  as 
repeated  instruction  can,  the  Catholic  faith  and  pure 
moral  conduct  in  the  character,  involving  instructions 
as  to  wliat  occasions  and  what  amusements  are  dan- 
gerous to  a  good  life,  on  the  reading  of  good  books 
and  the  avoiding  bad  books  and  bad  company. 

In  the  post-graduate  course,  lectures  are  given  and 
examinations  made  in  ethics,  psychology,  anthropol- 
ogy, biology,  and  physics  ;  and  in  the  published  ab- 
stracts of  lectures  for  the  past  two  years  I  find  that 
none  of  the  subjects  of  modern  doubt  and  speculation 
are  ignored — spiritism,  psychical  research,  the  cell  the- 
ory, the  idea  of  God,  socialism,  agnosticism,  the  Noach- 


n  5f 


342 


South  and  West. 


I  ",, 


ian  deluge,  theories  of  government,  fundamental  no- 
tions of  physical  science,  uhity  of  the  human  species, 
potency  of  matter,  and  so  on.  During  the  past  fifty 
years  this  faculty  has  contained  many  men  famous  as 
pulpit  orators  and  missionaries,  and  this  course  of 
lectures  on  philosophic  and  scientific  subjects  has 
brought  it  prominently  before  the  cultivated  inhabi- 
tants of  the  town. 

Another  educational  institution  of  note  in  St.  Louis 
is  the  Concordia  Seminar  of  the  Old  Luth' run,  or  the 
Evangelical  Lutheran  Church.  This  denomination, 
which  originated  in  Saxony,  and  has  a  large  member- 
sliip  in  our  Western  States,  adheres  strictly  to  the 
Augsburg  Confession,  and  is  distinguished  from  the 
general  Lutheran  Church  by  greater  strictness  of  doc- 
trine and  practice,  or,  as  may  be  said,  by  a  return  to 
primitive  Lutheranism ;  that  is  to  say,  it  grounds 
itself  upon  the  literal  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures, 
upon  salvation  by  faith  alone,  and  upon  individual 
liberty.  This  Seminar  is  one  of  several  related  insti- 
tutions in  the  Synod  of  Missouri,  Ohio,  and  other 
States :  there  is  a  college  at  Fort  Wayne,  Indiana,  a 
Progymnasium  at  Milwaukee,  a  Seminar  of  practical 
theology  at  Springfield,  Illinois,  and  this  Seminar  at 
St.  Louis,  which  is  wholly  devoted  to  theoretical  theol- 
ogy. This  Chur'ih  numbers,  I  believe,  about  200,000 
members. 

The  Concordia  Seminar  is  housed  in  a  large,  com- 
modious building,  effectively  set  upon  high  ground  in 
the  southern  part  of  the  city.  It  was  erected  and  the 
institution  is  sustained  by  the  contributions  of  the 
congregations.  The  interior,  roomy,  light,  and  com- 
modious, is  plain  to  barrenness,  and  has  a  certain  mo- 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


343 


iiastic  severity,  which  is  matched  by  the  disciphne  and 
the  fare.  In  visiting  it  one  takes  a  step  backward  into 
the  atmosphere  and  theology  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. The  ministers  of  the  denomination  are  distin- 
guished for  learning  and  earnest  simplicity.  The 
president,  a  very  able  man,  only  thirty-iivo  years^  of 
age,  is  at  least  two  centuries  old  in  his  opinions,  and 
wholly  undisturbed  by  any  of  the  doubts  which  have 
agitated  the  Christian  world  since  the  Reformation. 
He  holds  the  faith  "once  for  all"  delivered  to  the 
saints.  The  Seminar  has  a  hundred  students.  It  is 
requisite  to  admission,  said  the  president,  that  they 
Ik)  perfect  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  scholars.  A 
large  proportion  of  the  lectures  are  given  in  Latin, 
the  remainder  in  German  and  English,  and  Latin  is 
current  in  the  institution,  although  German  is  the 
familiar  speech.  The  course  of  study  is  exacting,  the 
rules  are  rigid,  and  the  discipline  severe.  Social  in- 
tercourse with  the  other  sex  is  discouraged.  The  pur- 
suit of  love  and  learning  are  considered  incompatible 
at  the  same  time  ;  and  if  a  student  were  ii)iconsiderat<^> 
enough  to  become  engaged,  he  would  be  expelled. 
Each  student  from  abroad  may  select  or  be  selected 
by  a  family  in  the  communion,  at  whose  house  he  may 
visit  once  a  week,  which  attends  to  his  washing,  and 
supplies  to  a  certain  extent  the  place  of  a  home.  The 
young  men  are  trained  in  the  highest  scholarship  and 
the  strictest  code  of  morals.  I  know  of  no  other  de- 
nomination which  holds  its  members  to  such  primitive 
theology  and  such  strictness  of  life.  Individual  liber- 
ty and  responsibility  are  stoutly  asserted,  without  any 
latitude  in  belief.  It  repudiates  Prohibition  as  an  in- 
fringement of  personal  liberty,  would  make  the  use  of 


•I 


i 

I 

U'  M 


)  ! 


344 


South  and  West. 


wine  or  beer  depend  upon  the  individual  conscience, 
but  no  member  of  the  communion  would  be  permitted 
to  sell  intoxicating  liquors,  or  to  go  to  a  beer-garden 
or  a  theatre.  In  regard  to  tlie  sacrament  of  commun- 
ion, there  is  no  authority  for  altering  the  plain  direc- 
tions in  the  Scripture,  and  communion  without  wine, 
or  the  substitution  of  any  concoction  for  wine,  would 
be  a  sin.  No  member  would  be  permitted  to  join  any 
labor  union  or  secret  society.  The  sacrament  of  com- 
munion is  a  mystery.  It  is  neither  transubstanliation 
nor  consubstantiation.  The  president,  Avhose  use  of 
English  in  subtle  distinctions  is  limited,  resorted  to 
T^atin  and  German  in  explanation  of  the  mystery,  but 
left  the  question  of  real  and  actual  presence,  of  spirit  and 
substance,  still  a  matter  of  terms  ;  one  can  only  say  that 
neither  the  ordinary  Protestant  nor  the  Catholic  inter- 
pretation is  accepted.  Conversion  is  not  by  any  act  or 
ability  of  man  ;  salvation  is  by  faith  alone.  As  the 
verbal  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  is  insisted  on  in 
all  cases,  the  world  was  actually  created  in  six  days 
of  twenty-four  hours  each.  When  I  asked  the  i)resi- 
dent  wdiat  he  did  with  geology,  he  smiled  and  simply 
waved  his  hand.  This  communion  has  thirteen  flour- 
ishing churches  in  the  city.  In  a  town  so  largely 
German,  and  with  so  many  freethinkers  as  well  as 
free-livers,  I  cannot  but  consider  this  strict  sect,  of  a 
simple  unquestioning  faith  and  high  moral  demands, 
of  the  highest  importance  in  the  future  of  the  city. 
But  one  encounters  with  surprise,  in  our  modern  life, 
this  revival  of  the  sixteenth  century,  which  i)lants 
itself  so  squarely  against  so  much  that  we  call  "  prog- 
ress." 

As  to  the  institutions  of  charity,  I  must  content  my- 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


345 


self  with  saying  that  they  are  many,  and  worthy  of  a 
great  and  enlightened  city.  There  are  of  all  denomi- 
nations 211  churches  ;  of  these  the  Catholics  lead  with 
47  ;  the  Presbyterians  come  next  with  24  ;  and  the 
Baptists  have  22  ;  the  Methodists  North,  4 ;  and  the 
Methodists  South,  8.  The  most  interesting  edifices, 
both  for  associations  and  architecture,  are  the  old 
Cathedral;  the  old  Christ  Church  (P^piscopalian), 
excellent  Gothic  ;  and  an  exquisite  edifice,  the  Church 
of  the  Messiah  (Unitarian),  in  Locust  Street. 

The  city  has  two  excellent  libraries.  The  Public 
Library,  an  adjunct  of  the  public-school  system,  in 
the  Polytechnic  Building,  has  an  annual  appropriation 
of  about  814,000  from  the  School  Board,  and  receives 
about  $5000  more  from  membership  and  other  sources. 
It  contains  about  67,000  volumes,  and  is  admirably 
managed.  Tlie  Mercantile  Library  is  in  process  of 
removal  into  a  magnificent  six-story  building  on 
Broadway  and  Locust  Street.  It  is  a  solid  and  im- 
j>osing  structure,  the  first  story  of  red  granite,  and 
the  others  of  brick  and  terra-cotta.  The  library  and 
reading-rooms  are  on  the  fifth  story,  the  rest  of  the 
building  is  rented.  This  association,  which  is  forty- 
two  years  old,  has  3500  members,  and  had  an  income 
in  1887  of  $120,000,  nearly  all  from  membership.  In 
January,  1888,  it  had  68,732  volumes,  and  in  a  circu- 
lation of  over  168,000  in  the  year,  it  had  the  unparal- 
leled distinction  of  reducing  the  fiction  given  out  t^) 
41.95  per  cent.  Both  these  libraries  liave  many 
treasures  interesting  to  a  book  -  lover,  and  though 
neither  is  free,  the  liberal,  intelligent  management  of 
each  has  been  such  as  to  make  it  a  most  beneficent 
institution  for  the  city. 


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346 


South  and  West. 


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There  are  many  handsome  and  stately  buildings  in 
the  city,  the  recent  erections  showing  growth  in 
wealth  and  taste.  The  Chamber  of  Commerce,  wliioli 
is  conspicuous  for  solid  elegance,  cost  a  million  and 
a  half  dollars.  There  are  3295  members  of  the  Mer- 
chants' Exchange.  The  Court-house,  with  its  noble 
dome,  is  as  well  proportioned  a  building  as  can  be 
found  in  the  country.  A  good  deal  may  be  said  for 
the  size  and  effect  of  the  Exposition  Building,  which 
covers  what  was  once  a  pretty  park  at  the  foot  of 
Lucas  Place,  and  cost  $750,000.  There  are  clubs 
many  and  flourishing.  The  St.  Louis  Club  (social) 
has  the  finest  building,  an  exceedingly  tasteful  piece 
of  Romanesque  architecture  on  Twenty-ninth  Street. 
The  University  Club,  which  is  like  its  namesake  in 
other  cities,  has  a  charming  old-fashioned  house  and 
grounds  on  Pine  Street.  The  Commercial  Club,  an 
organization  limited  in  its  membership  to  sixty,  has 
no  club-house,  but,  like  its  namesake  in  Chicago,  is  a 
controlling  influence  in  the  prosperity  of  the  city. 
Representing  all  the  leading  occupations,  it  is  a  body 
of  men  who,  by  character,  intellect,  and  wealth,  can 
carry  through  any  project  for  the  public  good,  and 
which  is  animated  by  the  highest  public  spirit. 

Of  the  social  life  of  the  town  one  is  permitted  to 
speak  only  in  general  terms.  It  has  many  elements 
to  make  it  delightful — long  use  in  social  civilities,  in- 
terest in  letters  and  in  education,  the  cultivation  of 
travel,  traditions,  md  the  refinement  of  intellectual 
pursuits,  "^rhe  town  has  no  academy  of  music,  but 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  musical  feeling  and  cultiva- 
tion ;  there  is  a  very  good  orchestra,  one  of  the  very 
best  choruses  in  the  country,  and  Verdi's  "  Requiem  "' 


t  :l 


JSt.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


347 


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was  recently  given  Kplendidly.  I  am  told  by  men  and 
women  of  rare  and  special  cultivation  that  the  city  is 
a  most  satisfactory  one  to  live  in,  and  certainly  to  the 
stranger  its  society  is  charming.  The  city  has,  how- 
ever, the  Mississippi  Valley  climate — extreme  heat  in 
the  summer,  and  trying  winters. 

There  is  no  more  interesting  industrial  establish- 
ment in  the  West  than  the  plate-glass  works  at  Crys- 
tal City,  thirty  miles  south  on  the  river.  It  was  built 
up  after  repeated  failures  and  reverses — for  the  busi- 
ness, like  any  other,  had  to  be  learned.  The  plant  is 
very  extensive,  the  buildings  are  of  the  best,  the  ma- 
chinery is  that  most  approved,  and  the  whole  rei)re- 
sents  a  cash  investment  of  $1,500,000,  The  location 
of  the  works  at  this  point  was  deternimed  by  the  ex- 
istence of  a  mountain  of  sand  which  is  quarried  out 
like  rock,  and  is  the  finest  and  cleanest  silica  known 
in  the  country.  The  production  is  confined  entirely 
to  plate-glass,  which  is  cast  in  great  slabs,  twelve  feet 
by  twelve  and  a  half  in  size,  each  of  which  weighs, 
before  it  is  reduced  half  in  thickness  by  grinding, 
smoothing,  and  polishing,  about  750  pounds.  The 
product  for  1887  was  1,200,000  feet.  The  coal  used 
in  the  furnaces  is  converted  into  gas,  which  is  found 
to  be  the  most  economical  and  most  easily  regulat- 
ed fuel.  This  industry  has  drawn  together  a  popu- 
lation of  about  1500.  I  was  interested  to  learn  that 
labor  in  the  production  of  this  glass  is  i)aid  twice 
as  much  as  similar  labor  in  England,  and  from  three 
to  four  times  as  much  as  similar  labor  in  France 
and  Belgium.  As  the  materials  used  in  making 
I)late-glass  are  inexpensive,  the  main  cost,  after  the 
plant,  is  in  labor.     Since  plate-glass  was  first  made 


« 


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348 


South  and  West. 


i    I 


t  r 


in  tliis  country,  eighteen  years  ago,  the  price  of 
it  in  the  foreign  market  has  heen  continually  forced 
down,  until  now  it  costs  the  American  consumer  only 
half  what  it  cost  him  before,  and  the  jobber  gets  it  at 
an  average  cost  of  75  cents  a  foot,  as  against  the  $1.50 
a  foot  which  we  paid  the  foreign  manufacturer  be- 
fore the  establishment  of  American  factories.  And  in 
these  eighteen  years  the  Government  has  had  from 
this  source  a  revenue  of  over  seventeen  millions,  at  an 
average  duty,  on  all  sizes,  of  less  than  59  per  cent. 


^i 


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Missouri  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  our  States  in  re- 
sources and  in  promise,  and  it  is  conspicuous  in  the 
West  for  its  variety  and  capacity  of  interesting  devel- 
opment. The  northern  portion  rivals  Iowa  in  beauti- 
ful rolling  prairie,  Avith  high  divides  and  park-like 
forests ;  its  water  communication  is  unsurpassed  ;  its 
mineral  resources  are  immense  ;  it  has  noble  mountains 
as  well  as  fine  uplands  and  fertile  valleys,  and  it  never 
impresses  the  traveller  as  monotonous.  So  attractive 
is  it  in  both  scenery  and  resources  that  it  seems  un- 
accountable that  so  many  settlers  have  passed  it  by. 
But,  first  slavery,  and  then  a  rural  population  disin- 
clined to  change,  have  stayed  its  development.  This 
state  of  things,  however,  is  changing,  has  changed 
marvellously  within  a  few  years  in  the  northern  por- 
tion, in  the  iron  regions,  and  especially  in  larger  cit- 
ies of  the  west,  St.  Joseph  and  Kansas  City.  Tiu 
State  deserves  a  study  by  itself,  for  it  is  on  the  way 
to  be  a  great  empire  of  most  varied,  interests.  I  can 
only  mention  here  one  indication  of  its  moral  prog- 
ress. It  has  adopted  a  high  license  and  local  option 
law.     Under  this  the  saloons  are  closed  in  nearly  all 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


349 


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can 


the  siTjullcr*  villages  and  country  towns.  A  shaded 
map  shows  more  than  three-fourths  of  the  area  of  the 
State,  including  three-fifths  of  the  population,  free 
from  liquor-selling.  The  county  court  may  grant  a 
license  to  sell  liquor  to  a  person  of  good  moral  char- 
acter on  the  signed  petition  of  a  majority  of  the  tax- 
paying  citizens  of  a  township  or  of  a  city  block ;  it 
must  grant  it  on  the  petition  of  two-thirds  of  the  citi- 
zens. Thus  positive  action  is  required  to  establish  a 
saloon.  On  the  map  there  are  70  white  counties  free 
of  saloons,  14  counties  in  which  there  are  from  one  to 
three  saloons  only,  and  24  shaded  counties  which  have 
altogether  2263  saloons,  of  which  1450  are  in  St.  Louis 
and  520  in  Kansas  City.  The  revenue  from  the 
saloons  in  St.  Louis  is  about  '$800,000,  in  Kansas  City 
about  $375,000,  annually.  The  heavily  shaded  portions 
of  the  map  are  on  the  great  rivers. 

Of  all  the  wonderful  towns  in  the  West,  none  has 
attracted  more  attention  in  the  East  than  Kansas  City. 
I  think  I  am  not  wrong  in  saying  that  it  is  largely 
the  product  of  Eastern  energy  and  capital,  and  that  its 
closest  relations  have  been  with  Boston.  I  doubt  if 
ever  a  new  town  was  from  the  start  built  up  so  solid- 
ly or  has  grown  more  substantially.  The  situation,  at 
the  point  where  the  Missouri  River  makes  a  sharp 
bend  to  the  east,  and  the  Kansas  River  enters  it,  was 
long  ago  pointed  out  as  the  natural  centre  of  a  great 
trade.  Long  before  it  started  on  its  present  career 
it  was  the  great  receiving  and  distributing  point  of 
South-western  commerce,  which  left  the  Missouri  Riv- 
er at  this  point  for  Santa  Fe  and  other  trading  marts 
in  the  South-west.  Aside  from  this  river  advantage, 
if  one  studies  the  course  of  streams  and  the  incline  of 


.;■•! 


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350 


South  and  West. 


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the  land  in  a  wide  circle  to  the  westward,  he  is  im- 
pressed with  the  fact  that  the  natural  business  drain- 
age of  a  vast  area  is  Kansas  City.  The  city  was 
therefore  not  fortuitously  located,  and  when  the  rail- 
ways centred  there,  they  obeyed  an  inevitable  law. 
Here  nature  intended,  in  the  development  of  the  coun- 
try, a  great  city.  Where  the  next  one  will  bo  in  the 
South-west  is  not  likely  to  be  determined  until  the  Ind- 
ian Territory  is  open  to  settlement.  To  the  north, 
Omaha,  with  reference  to  Nebraska  and  the  West,  jjos- 
sesses  many  similar  advantages,  and  is  likewise  grow- 
ing with  great  vigor  and  solidity.  Its  situation  on  a 
slope  rising  from  the  river  is  commanding  and  beauti- 
ful, and  its  splendid  business  houses,  handsome  private 
residences,  and  fine  public  schools  give  ample  evi- 
dence of  the  intelligent  enterprise  that  is  directing  its 
rapid  growth. 

It  is  difficult  to  analyze  the  impression  Kansas  City 
first  makes  upon  the  Eastern  stranger.  It  is  usually  that 
of  immense  movement,  much  of  it  crude,  all  of  it  full 
of  purpose.  At  the  Union  Station,  at  the  time  of  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  trains,  the  whole  world  seems 
afloat ;  one  is  in  the  midst  of  a  continental  movement 
of  most  varied  populations.  I  remember  that  the  fir^t 
time  I  saw  it  in  passing,  the  detail  that  most  impres-s- 
ed  me  was  the  racks  and  rows  of  baggage  checks ;  it 
did  not  seem  to  me  that  the  whole  travelling  world 
could  need  so  many.  At  that  time  a  drive  through 
the  city  revealed  a  chaos  of  enterprise — deep  cuts  for 
streets,  cable  roads  in  process  of  construction  over  the 
sharp  ridges,  new  buildings,  hills  shaved  down,  houses 
perched  high  up  on  slashed  knolls,  streets  swarming 
with  traffic  and  roaring  with  speculation.     A  little 


St.  Louis  and  Kanms  City. 


351 


more  than  a  year  later  tbe  chaDgc  towards  order  was 
marvellous  :  the  cable  roads  were  running  in  all  diree- 
tions  ;  gigantic  buildings  rising  upon  enormous  blocks 
of  stone  gave  distinction  to  the  principal  streets ;  the 
great  residence  avenues  have  been  beautified,  and 
showed  all  over  the  hills  stately  and  picturescpie 
houses.  And  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  while  the 
"  boom "  of  speculation  in  lots  liad  subsided,  there 
was  no  slacking  in  building,  and  the  reports  showed  a 
steady  increase  in  legitimate  business.  I  was  contirm- 
ed  in  my  theory  that  a  city  is  likely  to  be  most  at- 
tractive when  it  has  had  to  struggle  heroically  against 
natural  obstacles  in  the  building. 

I  am  not  going  to  describe  the  city.  The  reader 
kno>  s  that  it  lies  south  of  the  river  Missouri,  at  the 
bend,  and  that  the  notable  portion  of  it  is  built  upon 
a  series  of  sharp  hills.  The  hill  portion  is  already  a 
beautiful  city  ;  the  flat  i)art,  which  contains  the  rail- 
way depot  and  yards,  a  considerable  ])ortion  of  the 
manufactories  and  wholesale  houses,  and  nuich  refuse 
and  squatting  population  (white  and  black),  is  unat- 
tractive in  a  high  degree.  The  Kaw,  or  Kansas,  River 
would  seem  to  be  the  natural  western  boundarv,  but 
it  is  not  the  boundary  ;  the  city  and  State  line  runs 
at  some  distance  east  of  Kansas  River,  leaving  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  low  ground  in  Kansas  City,  Kan- 
sas, whicli  contains  the  larger  number  of  the  g;eat 
packing-houses  and  the  great  stock-yards.  This  iden- 
tity of  names  is  confusing.  Kansas  City  (Kansas), 
Wj'andotte,  Armourdale,  ArmstrDug,  and  Riverview 
(all  in  the  State  of  Kansas)  have  been  recently  con- 
solidated under  the  name  of  Kansas  City,  Kansas.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  this  thriving  town  of  Kansas, 


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352 


South  and  West. 


which  ah'eady  claims  a  population  of  40,000,  did  not 
take  the  name  of  Wyandotte.  In  its  boundaries  niv 
the  second  largest  stock-yards  in  the  country,  \\\\w\\ 
received  last  year  070,000  cattle,  nearly  2,500,000 
hogs,  and  210,000  sheep,  estimated  worth  ^51,000,000. 
There  also  are  half  a  dozen  laige  j»acking-houses,  one 
of  them  ranking  Avith  the  biggest  in  the  country, 
which  last  year  slaughtered  195,933  cattle,  and  1,907,- 
104  hogs.  The  great  elevated  railway,  a  wonderful 
structure,  which  connects  Kansas  City,  Missouri,  with 
Wyandotte,  is  owned  and  managed  by  men  of  Kan- 
sas City,  Kansas.  The  city  in  Kansas  has  a  great 
area  of  level  ground  for  the  accommodation  of  manu- 
facturing enterprises,  and  I  noticed  a  good  deal  of 
speculative  feeling  in  regard  to  this  territory.  The 
Kansas  side  has  fine  elevated  situations  for  residences, 
but  Wyandotte  itself  does  not  compare  in  attractive- 
ness with  the  Missouri  city,  and  I  fancy  that  the  con- 
trolling impetus  and  capital  will  long  remain  with  the 
city  that  has  so  much  the  start. 

Looking  about  for  the  specialty  which  I  have  learn- 
ed to  expect  in  every  great  Western  city,  I  was  struck 
by  the  number  of  warehouses  for  the  sale  of  agricult- 
ural implements  on  the  flats,  and  I  was  told  that 
Kansas  City  excels  all  others  in  the  amount  of  sales  of 
farming  implements.  The  sale  is  put  down  at  $15,- 
000,000  for  the  year  1887— a  fourth  of  the  entire 
reported  product  manufactured  in  the  United  States. 
Looking  for  the  explanation  of  this,  one  largely  ac- 
counts for  the  growth  of  Kansas  City,  namely,  the 
vast  rich  agricultural  regions  to  the  west  and  south- 
west, the  development 'of  Missouri  itself,  and  the  fa- 
cilities of  distribution.     It  is  a  general  belief  that 


■  ii 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


353 


si'ttleincnt  is  gradually  pushing  the  rainy  bolt  farther 
atui  fartlur  Avcstward  over  the  prairies  and  plains, 
that  the  breaking  up  of  the  sod  by  the  plough  and 
the  tilling  have  increased  evaporation  and  consequent- 
ly rainfall.  I  find  this  (piestioncd  by  competentob- 
sorvers,  who  say  that  the  observation  of  ten  years  is 
not  enough  to  settle  the  fact  of  a  change  of  climate, 
and  that,  as  not  a  tenth  part  of  the  area  under  consid- 
eration has  been  broken  by  the  plough,  there  is  not 
cause  enough  for  the  alleged  effect,  and  that  we  do 
not  yet  know  the  cycle  of  years  of  drought  and  j'cars 
of  rain.  However  this  may  be,  there  is  no  doubt  of 
the  vast  agricultural  yield  of  these  new  States  and 
Territories,  nor  of  the  quantities  of  improved  machin- 
ery they  use.  As  to  facility  of  distribution,  the  rail- 
Avays  arc  in  evidence.  I  need  not  name  them,  but  I 
believe  I  counted  fifteen  lines  and  systems  centring 
there.  In  1887,  45G5  miles  of  railway  were  added  to 
the  facilities  of  Kansas  City,  stretching  out  in  every 
direction.  The  development  of  one  is  notable  as  pe- 
culiar and  far-sighted,  the  Fort  Scott  and  Gulf,  which 
is  grasping  the  East  as  well  as  the  South-west;  turn- 
ing eastward  from  Fort  Scott,  it  already  reaches  the 
iron  industries  of  Birmingham,  pushes  on  to  Atlanta, 
and  seeks  the  seaboard.  I  do  not  think  I  over-estimate 
the  importance  of  this  quite  direct  connection  of  Kan- 
sas City  Avith  the  Atlantic. 

The  population  of  Kansas  City,  according  to  the 
statistics  of  the  ]joard  of  Trade,  increased  from  41,- 
I'Se  in  1877  to  105,924  in  1887,  the  assessed  valuation 
from  89,370,287  in  1877  to  853,017,290  in  1887,  and 
the  rate  of  taxation  was  reduced  in  the  same  period 
from  about  22  mills  to  14.  I  notice  also  that  the 
38 


;;    vt 


1  '■*''] 


354 


South  and  West. 


I 


banking  capital  increased  in  a  year — 1880  to  1887 — 
from  6^5,8715,000  to  ii<0,950,000,  and  tlic  Clearing-house 
transactions  in  the  same  year  from  )j(251,90;{,441  to 
l!«35;),89r),4.'58.  This,  with  other  figures  which  might 
be  given,  sustains  the  assertion  that  while  real-estate 
speculation  has  decreased  in  the  current  year,  there 
was  a  substantial  increase  of  business.     During  the 

CD 

year  ending  June  MO,  1886,  there  were  built  4054  new 
houses,  costing  $10,;593,207 ;  during  the  year  ending 
June  30,  1887,  5889,  costing  *r2,839,808.  An  impor- 
tant feature  of  the  business  of  Kansas  City  is  in  the 
investment  and  loan  and  trust  companies,  which  arc 
many,  and  aggregate  a  capital  of  $7,773,000.  Loans 
are  made  on  farms  in  Kansas,  Missouri,  Nebraska, 
and  Iowa,  and  also  for  city  improvements. 

Details  of  business  might  be  multiplied,  but  enough 
have  been  given  to  illustrate  the  material  prosperity 
of  the  city.  I  might  add  a  note  of  the  enterprise 
which  last  year  paved  (mainly  with  cedar  blocks  on 
concrete)  thirteen  miles  of  the  city;  the  very  hand- 
some churches  in  process  of  erection,  and  one  or  two 
(of  the  many)  already  built,  admirable  in  plan  and 
appearance;  the  really  magnificent  building  of  the 
Board  of  Trade — a  palace,  in  fact;  and  other  hand- 
some, costly  structures  on  every  hand.  There  are 
thirty-five  miles  of  cable  road.  I  am  not  sure  but 
these  cable  roads  are  the  most  interesting — certainly 
the  most  exciting — feature  of  the  city  to  a  stranger. 
They  climb  such  steeps,  they  plunge  down  such  grades, 
they  penetrate  and  whiz  through  such  crowded,  lively 
thoroughfares,  their  trains  go  so  rapidly,  that  the 
rider  is  in  a  perpetual  exhilaration.  I  know  no  other 
locomotion  more  exciting  and  agreeable.     Life  seems 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


355 


•A  sort  of  liolitlav  when  ono  whizzes  throujjh  the  crowd- 
c(l  city,  up  aiul  down  and  around  amid  the  tall  buihl- 
iiij^s,  and  then  hiunehes  oil  in  any  direction  into  the 
suburbs,  which  are  alivo  Avith  new  buildings.  Inde- 
j)endence  Avenue  is  shown  as  ono  of  the  linest  avenues, 
antl  very  handsome  it  and  that  part  of  the  town  are, 
hut  I  fancied  I  could  detect  a  movement  of  fashion 
and  preference  to  the  hills  southward. 

In  the  midst  of  such  a  material  expansion  one  has 
learned  to  expect  line  houses,  but  I  was  sur[»rised  to 
iiud  three  very  good  book-stores  (as  I  remember,  St. 
Louis  has  not  one  so  good),  and  a  very  good  start  for 
a  public  library,  consisting  of  about  lO,()0()  well- 
arranged  and  classified  books.  IMembers  pay  ^2  a 
year,  and  the  library  receives  only  about  §2500  a  year 
from  the  city.  The  citizens  could  make  no  better- 
paying  investment  than  to  raise  this  library  to  the  first 
rank.  There  is  also  the  beginning  of  an  art  school  in 
some  pretty  rooms,  furnished  with  casts  and  auto- 
types, where  pupils  practise  drawing  under  direction 
of  local  artists.  There  are  two  social  clubs — the  Uni- 
versity, which  occupies  i)leasant  apartments,  and  the 
Kansas  City  Club,  which  has  just  erected  a  handsome 
club-house.  In  these  respects,  and  in  a  hundred  re- 
ilnements  of  living,  the  town,  which  has  so  largely 
drawn  its  young,  enterprising  population  from  the  ex- 
treme East,  has  little  the  appearance  of  a  frontier 
place;  it  is  the  push,  the  public  spirit,  the  mixture  of 
fashion  and  slouching  negligence  in  street  attire,  the 
mingling  of  Eastern  smartness  with  border  emancipa- 
tion in  manner,  and  the  general  restlessness  of  move- 
ment, that  proclaim  the  newness.  It  seems  to  me  that 
the  incessant  stir,  and  especially  the  clatter,  whir, 


356 


South  and  West. 


anrl  rapidity  of  the  cable  cars,  must  have  a  tlcciUed 
effect  on  the  nerves  of  the  wliole  population.  The 
appearance  is  certainly  that  of  an  entire  population 
incessantly  in  motion. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  public  spirit.  Jlesides  tlic 
Board  of  Trade  there  is  a  Merchants'  and  Manufactiir- 
cvh  Bureau,  which  works  vigorously  to  bring  to  the 
city  and  establish  mercantile  and  manufacturing  en- 
terprises. The  same  spirit  is  shown  in  the  public 
schools.  The  expenditures  in  1887  were,  for  school 
].uri)()ses,  ^220,023;  for  interest  on  bonds,  ^18,408;  for 
grounds  and  buildings,  $110,087;  in  all,  8355,41'-'. 
The  total  of  children  of  school  age  was,  white,  31,- 
607;  colored,  4204.  Of  these  in  attendance  at  school 
were,  white,  12,933  ;  colored,  1975.  There  were  25 
school-houses  and  212  teachers.  The  schools  which  I 
saw — one  large  grammar-school,  a,  colored  scliool,  and 
the  High-school  of  over  GOO  pupils — v;ero  good  all 
through,  full  of  intelligent  eraulatio;',  the  teachers 
alert  and  well  equij»ped,  and  th.e  atcention  to  litera- 
ture, to  the  science  of  government,  to  wdiat,  in  short, 
goes  to  make  intelligent  citizens,  highly  commend- 
able. I  find  the  annual  reports,  under  Prof.  J.  M. 
Greenwood,  most  interesting  reading.  Topics  arc 
taken  up  and  investigations  made  of  great  public  in- 
terest. These  topics  relate  to  the  even  physical  aii'l 
mental  development  of  the  young  in  distinction  fron; 
the  effort  merely  to  stuff  them  with  information. 
There  is  a  most  intelligent  attempt  to  remedy  defect- 
ivG  eyesight.  Twenty  per  cent,  of  school  childroi 
have  some  anomaly  of  refraction  or  accommodation 
which  should  be  recognized  and  corrected  earlv:  uirls 
have  a  larger  per  cent,  of  anomalies  than  boys.     Tri>li, 


1^1 


1  : 


St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City. 


357 


Swedish,  aiul  CJerman  children  have  the  highest  i)er- 
eentage  of  affections  of  the  eyes ;  Englisli,  French, 
Scotch,  und  Americans  the  lowest.     Scientific  ohser- 
vations   of  the   eyes   are   made   in  the  Kansas  City 
school-^,  with   a  view   to   remedy   defects.     Another 
curious  toi)ic  is  the  investigation  of  the  Contents  of 
Children's  Minds — that  is,  what  very  small  children 
know  ahout  common  things.     Prof.  Stanley  Hall  pub- 
lished recently  the   result  of  examinations  made  of 
•cry  little  folks  in  Boston  schools.     Professor  Green- 
Avood  made  similar  investigations  among  the  lowest 
grade  of  pupils  in  the  Kansas  City  schools,  aiul  a  table 
of  comi)arisons  is  printed.     The  per  cont.  of  cldldren 
ignorant  of   common  things  is  astonishingly  less  in 
Kansas  City  schools  than  in  the  Boston;  even  the  col- 
ored children  of  the  "Western  city  made  a  much  bet- 
ter showing.     Another  subject  of  investigation  is  the 
alleged  physical  deterioration  in  this  country.     Ex- 
aminations were  made  of  hundreds  of  school  chiFren 
from  the  age  of  ten  to  lifteon,  and  comparisons  taken 
with  the  tables  in  Mulhall's  "Dictionary  of  Statistics," 
London,  1884.     It  turns  out  that  the  Kansas  City  chil- 
dren are  taller,  taking  sex  into  account,  than  the  aver- 
age ICnglish  child  at  the  ago  of  either  ten  or  fifteen, 
weigh  a  fraction   less    at   ten,  but  upwanls  of  four 
pounds  more  at  fifteen,  while  the  average  JJelgian  ])oy 
and  girl  compare  favorably  with  American  children 
t  wo  years  younger.     The  tabulated  statistics  show  two 
facts,  that  the  average  Kansas  child  stands  fully  as 
tall  as  the  tallest,  and  that  in  weight  he  tips  the  beam 
against  an  older  child  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantii 
With  this  showing,  we  trust  that   nur  American  ex- 
l^eriment  will  be  permitted  to  go  o;;. 


ft! 


Ifir 


353 


South  and  West. 


In  reaching  the  necessary  limit  of  a  paper  too  short 
for  its  subject,  I  can  only  express  my  admiration  of 
the  indomitable  energy  and  spirit  of  that  portion  of 
the  West  which  Kansas  City  represents,  and  congrat- 
ulate it  upon  so  many  indications  of  attention  to  the 
higher  civilization,  without  which  its  material  pros- 
perity  will  be  wonderful  but  not  attractive. 


XV. 
KENTUCKY. 

All  Kentucky,  like  Gaul,  is  divided  into  three  parts. 
This  division,  which  may  not  be  sustained  by  the  ge- 
ologists or  the  geographers,  perhaps  not  even  by  the 
ethnologists,  is,  in  my  mind,  one  of  character:  the  east 
and  south-east  mountainous  part,  the  central  blue-grass 
region,  and  the  great  western  portion,  thrifty  in  both 
agriculture  and  manufactures.  It  is  a  great  self- 
sustaining  cmj)ire,  lying  midway  in  the  Union,  and 
between  the  North  and  the  South  (never  having  yet 
exactly  made  up  its  mind  whether  it  is  North  or 
South),  extending  over  more  than  seven  degrees  of 
longitude.  Its  greatest  length  east  and  west  is  410 
miles;  its  greatest  breadtii,  178  miles.  Its  area  by 
latest  surveys,  and  larger  than  formerly  estimated,  is 
42,283  square  miles.  Within  this  area  prodigal  nature 
lias  brought  together  nearly  everything  that  a  highly 
civilized  society  needs :  the  most  fertile  soil,  capable 
of  producing  almost  every  variety  of  product  for  food 
or  for  textile  ^  ibrics;  mountains  of  coals  and  iron  ores 
and  limestone;  streams  and  springs  everywhere;  al- 
most all  sorts  of  hard- wood  timber  in  abundance. 
Nearly  half  the  State  is  still  virgin  forest  of  the  no- 
blest trees,  oaks,  sugar-maple,  ash,  poplar,  black-wal- 
nut, linn,  elm,  hickor\-,  beech,  chestnut,  red  cedar. 
The  climate  may  honestly  be  called  temperate  :  its 
inhabitants  do  not  need  to  live  in  cellars  in  the  sum- 


Iff 


¥ 


360 


South  and  West. 


t'i 


« : .  ■ . 


»    ! 


I. 


In 


mcr,  nor  burn  up  tlicir  fences  and  furniture  in  the 
winter. 

Kentucky  is  loved  of  its  rivers.  It  can  be  seen  by 
their  excessively  zi«^zag  courses  how  reluctant  they  are 
to  leave  the  State,  and  if  they  do  leave  it  they  are 
certain  to  return.  The  Kentucky  and  the  Green 
wander  about  in  the  most  uncertain  way  before  tliey 
go  to  the  <  )hio,  and  the  Licking  and  IJig  Sandy  exhibit 
only  a  tie  less  reluctance.  The  Cumberland,  after 
a  wide  detour  in  Tennessee,  returns  ;  and  Powell's 
River,  joining  the  Clinch  and  entering  the  Tennessee, 
finally  persuades  that  river,  after  it  has  looked  about 
the  State  of  Tennessee  and  gladdened  northern  Ala 
bama,  to  return  to  Kentuckv. 

Kentucky  is  an  old  State,  with  an  old  civilization. 
It  was  the  pioneer  in  the  great  western  movement  of 
])o})ulation  after  the  Revolution.  Although  it  was 
first  explored  in  1770,  and  the  Boone  trail  through  the 
wilderness  of  Cumberland  Gap  was  not  marked  till 
1775,  a  settlement  had  been  made  in  Frankfort  in 
1774,  and  in  1790  the  Territory  had  a  population  of 
73,077.  This  was  a  marvellous  grow^th,  considovinjj; 
the  isolation  by  hundreds  of  miles  of  wilderness  fi')iu 
Eastern  communities,  and  the  savage  opposition  of  tic 
Indians,  who  slew  fifteen  hundred  white  settlers  from 
1783  to  1790.  Kentucky  was  the  home  of  no  Indian 
tribe,  but  it  was  the  favorite  hunting  and  fightiiii^ 
ground  of  those  north  of  the  Ohio  and  south  of  the 
Cumberland,  and  thev  united  to  resent  white  inter- 
ference.  When  the  State  came  into  the  Union  in  l70:i 
— the  second  admitted — it  was  the  equal  in  p()j)ulatiun 
and  agricultural  wealth  of  some  of  the  original  States 
that  had  been  settled  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and 


Kentucky. 


361 


in  1800  could  boast  220,'759  inhabitants,  and  in  1810, 
406,511. 

At  the  time  of  the  settlement.  New  York  west  of 
tlie  Hudson,  western  Pennsylvania,  and  western  Vir- 
ginia were  almost  unoccupied  except  by  hostile  Ind- 
ians; there  was  only  chance  and  dani^erous  navigation 
down  the  Ol'io  from  Pittsburg,  and  it  was  nearly 
eight  hundred  miles  oT  a  wilderness  road,  Avhioh  was 
nothing  but  a  bridle-path,  from  Philadelphia  by  way 
of  the  Cumberland  Gap  to  central  Kentucky.  The 
majority  of  emigrants  came  this  toilsome  way,  which 
was,  after  all,  preferable  to  the  river  route,  and  all 
passengers  and  produce  went  that  way  eastward,  for 
the  steamboat  had  not  yet  made  the  ascent  of  the 
Ohio  feasibk'.  In  1779  Virginia  resolved  to  construct 
a  wagon-road  through  the  Avilderness,  but  no  road  was 
made  for  many  years  afterwards,,  and  indeed  no  vehicle 
of  any  sort  passed  over  it  till  a  road  was  built  by  ac- 
tion of  the  Kentucky  Legislature  in  170G.  I  hope  it 
was  better  then  than  the  ])ortion  of  it  I  travelled  from 
Pineville  to  the  Gap  in  1888. 

Civilization  made  a  great  leap  over  nearly  a  thou- 
sand miles  into  the  open  garden-spot  of  central  Ken- 
tucky, and  the  exploit  is  a  unique  chapter  in  our 
frontier  development.  Either  no  other  laud  ever  lent 
itself  so  easily  to  civilization  :is  the  blue-grass  region, 
or  it  was  exceptionally  fortunate  in  its  occupants. 
Tliey  formed  almost  immediately  a  society  distin- 
guished for  its  amenities,  for  its  ])olitical  iulhience, 
prosperous  beyond  precedent  in  farming,  venturesome 
and  active  in  trade,  developing  large  manufaetures, 
especially  from  hemj),  of  such  articles  as  could  be 
transported  by  river,  and  sending  annually  through 


y  ''f '!  i 

-  \.  ' 

\   .'1  ^ 


'i 


II 


\s 


■A 


>  1 


f 


it! 


362 


South  and  West. 


'in 


the  wiklorness  road  to  the  East  and  Soutli  immense 
droves  of  cattle,  horses,  and  swine.  In  the  first  neces- 
sity, and  the  best  indication  of  superior  civilization, 
good  roads  for  trans])ortation,  Kentucky  was  conspic- 
uous in  comj)arison  with  the  rest  of  the  country.  As 
early  as  1825  macadam  roads  were  projected,  the  turn- 
])ike  from  Lexington  to  Maysville  on  the  Oliio  was 
built  in  1829,  and  the  work  went  on  by  State  and 
county  co-operation  until  the  central  region  had  a 
system  of  splendid  roads,  unexcelled  in  any  part  <»f 
the  Union.  In  1830  one  of  the  earliest  railways  in  the 
United  States,  that  from  Lexington  to  Frankfort,  was 
begun;  two  years  later  seven  miles  were  constructed, 
and  in  1835  the  first  locomotive  and  train  of  cars  ran 
on  it  to  Frankfort,  twenty-seven  miles,  in  two  hours 
and  twenty-nine  minutes.  The  structure  was  com- 
posed of  stone  sills,  in  Avhich  grooves  were  cut  to 
receive  the  iron  bars.  These  stone  blocks  can  still  be 
seen  along  the  line  of  the  road,  now  a  part  of  the 
Louisville  and  Nashville  svstem.  In  all  internal  im- 
provements  the  State  was  very  energetic.  The  canal 
around  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio  at  Louisville  was  opened 
in  1831,  with  some  aid  from  the  (General  Government. 
The  State  expended  a  great  deal  in  improving  the 
navigation  of  the  Kentucky,  the  (ireen,  and  other 
rivers  in  its  borders  by  an  expensive  systeni  of  locks 
and  dams;  in  1837  it  paid  $19,500  to  engineers  engagi'd 
in  turnpike  and  river  im})rovement,  and  in  1839  $31,- 
675  for  the  same  purpose. 

The  story  of  early  Kentucky  reads  like  a  romance. 
By  1820  it  counted  a  population  of  over  516,000,  and 
still  it  had  scarcely  wagon-road  communication  Avith 
the  East.     Here  was  a  singular  ])henomenon,  a  pros- 


n; 


Kentucky. 


3C3 


pcrons  community,  as  one  might  say  a  garden  in  the 
Avilderncss,  separated  by  natural  barriers  from  the 
great  life  of  the  East,  which  pushed  out  north  of  it  a 
connected,  continuous  development;  a  community  al- 
most self-sustaining,  having  for  his  centre  the  loveli- 
est agricultural  region  in  the  Union,  and  evolving  a 
unique  social  state  so  gracious  and  attractive  that  it 
was  thought  necessary  to  call  iti  the  effect  of  the  blue- 
grass  to  explain  it,  unaided  human  nature  being  in- 
adequate, it  Mas  thought,  to  such  a  result.  Almost 
from  the  beginning  fine  houses  attested  the  taste  and 
])rosperity  of  the  settlers  ;  by  1792  the  blue-grass  rc- 
crion  was  dotted  with  neat  and  commodious  dwellings, 
fruit  orchards  and  gardens,  sugar  groves,  and  clusters 
of  villages;  while,  a  little  later,  rose,  in  the  midst  of 
broad  plantations  and  park-like  forests,  lands  luxuriant 
Avitli  wheat  and  clover  and  corn  and  hemj)  and  tol)acco, 
the  manorial  dwellings  of  the  colonial  period,  like  the 
stately  homes  i)lanted  by  the  Holland  Land  Company 
along  the  Hudson  and  the  ^Mohawk  and  in  the  fair 
Genesee,  like  the  pillared  structures  on  the  .Tames  and 
the  Staunton,  and  like  the  solid  square  mansions  of 
old  New  England.  A  type  of  some  of  them  stands  in 
Frankfort  now,  a  house  which  was  planned  by  Thomas 
Jefferson  and  built  in  170G,  spacious,  permanent,  ele- 
gant in  the  low  relief  of  its  chaste  ornamentation. 
For  comfort,  for  the  pur[)Oses  of  hos[)itaiity,  for  tlu- 
(juiet  and  rest  of  the  miiul,  there  is  still  nothing  so 
good  as  the  colonial  house,  with  the  slight  modifica- 
tions required  by  our  changed  c(Mi<litions. 

From  1820  onward  the  State  trrew  by  a  natural  in- 
crement  of  population,  but  without  much  aid  from 
native  or  foreign  emigration.     In  18G0  its  population 


364 


South  and  West. 


\^\ 


wa  only  about  919,000  wliitos,  with  some  225,000 
slaves  and  over  10,000  free  colored  persons.  It  had 
no  city  of  the  first  class,  nor  any  villages  specially 
thriving.  Louisville  numbered  only  about  08,000,  Lex- 
ington less  than  15,000,  and  Frankfort,  the  capital,  a 
little  over  5000,  It  retained  the  lead  in  hemp  and  a 
leading  position  in  tobacco  ;  but  it  had  fallen  away 
behind  its  much  younger  rivals  in  manufactures  and 
the  building  of  railways,  and  only  feeble  efforts  had 
been  made  in  the  development  of  its  extraordinary 
mineral  resources. 

IIow  is  this  arrest  of  development  accounted  for? 
I  know  that  a  short  way  of  accounting  for  it  has  been 
the  presence  of  slavery.  I  would  not  underestimate 
this.  Free  labor  would  not  go  where  it  had  to  com- 
pete with  slave  labor;  Avhite  labor  now  does  not  like 
to  come  into  relations  with  black  labor;  and  capital 
also  wa^  shy  of  investment  in  a  State  where  both  po- 
litical economy  and  social  life  were  disturbed  by  a 
color  line.  liJut  this  does  not  wholly  account  for  the 
position  of  Kentucky  as  to  development  at  the  close 
of  the  war.  So  attractive  is  the  State  in  most  respects, 
in  climate,  soil,  and  the  possibilities  of  great  wealth 
by  manufactures,  that  I  doubt  not  the  State  woi^ld 
have  been  forced  into  the  line  of  Western  progress 
and  slavery  become  an  unimportant  factor  long  ago, 
but  for  certain  natural  obstacles  and  artificial  intlu- 
ences. 

Let  the  reader  look  on  the  map,  at  the  ranges  of 
mountains  running  from  the  north-east  to  the  south- 
west — the  IJlue  liidge,  the  Alleghanies,  the  Cumber- 
land, and  Pine  mountains,  continuous  rocky  ridges, 
with  scarcely  a  water  gap,  and  only  at  long  intervals 


Kentucky. 


305 


a  passable  mountain  gaj) — and  notice  how  these  would 
both  hinder  and  deHect  the  tide  of  emi<j;rati()n.  Witii 
such  barriers  the  early  develoj)nient  of  Kentucky  be- 
comes ten  times  a  wonder.  IJut  about  18-25  an  event 
occurred  tliat  ])laced  her  at  a  cjreater  disadvanta<j:e  in 
the  competition.  The  Erie  Canal  was  opened.  This 
made  New  Vork,  and  not  Virginia,  the  great  com- 
mercial highway.  The  railway  development  followed. 
It  was  easy  to  build  roads  north  of  Kentucky,  and  the 
tide  of  ttleritent  followed  the  roads,  whicii  were 
mostly  aided  by  land  grants;  and  in  order  to  utilize 
the  land  grants  the  railways  stimulated  emigration  by 
extensive  advertising.  Capital  and  population  ])assed 
Kentucky  by  on  the  north.  To  the  south  somewhat 
similar  conditions  prevailed.  Com])aratively  cheap 
roads  could  be  built  along  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
AlleGrhanies,  followiufj  the  great  vallev  from  I*enn- 
sylvania  to  AlaT)ama  ;  and  these  south-westwardh- 
roads  were  also  aided  by  the  General  Covernment. 
Tiie  North  and  South  Ilailwav  of  Alabama,  ai.d  the 
Alabama  and  Great  Southern,  which  cross  at  Birming- 
ham, were  land-grant  roads.  The  roads  wliieli  left  the 
Atlantic  seal>oard  passed  naturally  northward  and 
southward  of  Kentucky,  and  left  an  immense  area  in 
the  centre  of  the  Union — all  of  western  and  south- 
western Virginia  and  eastern  Kentucky  —  without 
transportation  facilities.  Until  1880  here  was  the 
largest  area  east  of  the  Mississippi  unjjenetratcd  by 
rail  wa  vs. 

The  war  removed  one  obstacle  to  the  free  movement 
of  men  desiring  work  and  seeking  agreeable  homes, 
a  movement  marked  in  the  great  increase  of  the  in- 
dustrial population  of  Louisville  and  the  awakening  to 


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varied  iiKlustrios  and  trade  in  western  Kentucky.  Tiio 
offer  of  cheap  land,  which  would  reward  skilful  farm- 
ing in  agreeable  climatic  conditions,  has  attracted 
foreign  settlers  to  the  plateau  south  of  the  blue-grass 
region  ;  and  scientific  investigation  has  made  the 
mountain  district  in  the  south-east  the  object  of  the 
eager  comijetition  of  both  domestic  and  foreign  cap- 
ital. Kentucky,  therefore,  is  entering  upon  a  new  era 
of  development.  Two  })hases  of  it,  the  Swiss  colonies, 
and  the  opening  of  the  coal,  iron,  and  timber  resources, 
present  si)ecial  points  of  interest. 

This  incoming  of  the  commercial  spirit  will  change 
Kentucky  for  the  better  and  for  the  worse,  will  change 
even  the  tone  of  the  blue-grass  country,  and  ])erhaps 
take  away  something  of  that  charm  about  which  so 
much  has  been  Avritten.  So  thoroughly  has  this  rcfjion 
been  set  forth  by  the  pen  and  the  i)encil  and  the  lens 
that  I  am  relieved  of  the  necessity  of  describing  it. 
But  I  must  confess  that  all  I  had  read  of  it,  all  the 
pictures  I  liad  seen,  gave  me  an  inadequate  idea  of  its 
beauty  and  richness.  So  far  as  I  know,  there  is  noth- 
ing like  it  in  tlie  world.  Comparison  of  it  with  Eng- 
land is  often  made  in  the  use  of  the  words  "  garden  " 
and  "park."  The  landscape  is  as  unlike  the  ilner 
parts  of  Old  England  as  it  is  unlike  the  most  carefully 
tended  parts  of  New  England.  It  has  neither  the  in- 
tense green,  the  subdivisions  in  hedges,  tlie  bosky  lanes, 
the  picturesque  cottages,  the  niceness  of  minute  garden- 
culture,  of  England,  nor  the  broken,  mixed  lawn  gar- 
dening and  neglected  pastures  and  highwaj^s,  with  the 
sweet  wild  hills,  of  the  Berkshire  i-egion.  It  is  an 
open,  elevated,  rolling  land,  giving  the  traveller  often 
the  most  extended  views  over  wheat  and  clover,  lierap 


m 


K'^ntuchj. 


307 


I!    ' 


and  tobacco  fiokis,  forests  and  bluo-grass  pastures.  One 
may  drive  for  a  hundred  miles  north  and  south  over 
the  splendid  macadam  turnpikes,  behind  blooded  road- 
sters, at  an  easy  ten-mile  gait,  and  see  always  the  same 
sight — a  smiling  agricultural  paradise,  with  scarcely 
a  foot,  in  fence  corners,  by  the  road-side,  or  in  low 
grounds,  of  uncultivated,  uncared-for  land.  The  open 
country  is  more  ])leasing  than  the  small  villagi's,  which 
have  not  the  tidiness  of  tlie  New  England  small  vil- 
lages; the  houses  are  for  the  most  })art  plain;  lu  re  and 
there  is  a  negro  cabin,  or  a  cluster  of  them,  a})t  to  be 
unsightly,  but  always  in  view  somewhere  is  a  ])lanta- 
tion-house,  more  or  less  ])retentious,  generally  old-fash- 
ioned and  with  the  colonial  charm.  These  are  fre- 
quently off  the  main  thoroughfare,  approached  by  a 
private  road  "winding  through  oaks  and  ash-trees, 
seated  on  some  gentle  knoll  or  slope,  maybe  with  a 
small  flower-garden,  but  probably  with  the  old  sen- 
timental blooms  that  smell  good  and  have  reminis- 
cences, in  the  midst  of  waving  iields  of  grain,  blue- 
grass  pastures,  and  open  forest  glades  Avatered  by  a 
clear  stream.  There  seems  to  be  infinite  peace  in  a 
house  so  surrounded.  The  house  may  have  pillars, 
probably  a  colonial  i)orch  and  door-way  with  carving 
in  bass-relief,  a  wide  hall,  large  scpiare  rooms,  low 
studded,  and  a  general  air  of  comfort.  What  is  new 
in  it  in  the  way  of  art,  furniture,  or  bric-a-brac  may 
not  be  in  the  best  taste,  and  may  "swear"  at  the  old 
furniture  and  the  delightful  old  portraits.  For  almost 
always  will  be  found  some  portraits  of  the  ])OSt-llevolu- 
tionary  period,  having  a  traditional  and  family  inter- 
est, by  Copley  or  Jouett,  perhaps  a  Stuart,  maybe  by 
some  artist  who  evidently  did  not  paint  for  fame, 


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South  and  West. 


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which  cairy  the  observer  back  to  the  colonial  socie- 
ty in  Virginia,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York.  In  a 
country  house  and  in  Lexington  I  saw  portraits,  life- 
size  and  miniature,  of  Rebecca  Gratz,  whose  loveliness 
of  person  and  character  is  still  a  tender  recollection  of 
persons  living.  She  was  a  great  beauty  and  toast  in 
her  day.  It  was  at  her  house  in  Philadelphia,  a  centre 
of  wit  and  gayety,  that  Washington  Irving  and  Henry 
Brevoort  and  Gulian  C  Verplanck  often  visited.  She 
shone  not  less  in  New  York  society,  and  was  the  most 
intimate  friend  of  Matilda  Hoffman,  who  was  betrothed 
to  Irving;  indeed,  it  was  in  her  arms  that  Matilda  dietl, 
fadeless  always  to  us  as  she  was  to  Irving,  in  the  love- 
liness of  her  eighteenth  year.  The  well-founded  tra- 
dition is  that  Irving,  on  his  first  visit  to  Abbotsford, 
told  Scott  of  his  own  loss,  and  made  him  acquainted 
with  the  beauty  and  grace  of  Rebecca  Gratz,  and  that 
Scott,  wanting  at  the  moment  to  vindicate  a  race  that 
was  aspersed,  used  her  as  a  model  for  Rebecca  in 
"  Ivanhoe." 

One  distinction  of  the  blue-grass  region  is  the 
forests,  largely  of  gigantic  oaks,  free  of  all  under- 
growth, carpeted  with  the  close-set,  luscious,  nutritive 
blue-grass,  which  remains  green  all  the  season  when 
it  is  cropped  by  feeding.  The  blue-grass  thrives  else- 
where, notably  in  the  upper  Shenandoah  Valley,  where 
somewhat  similar  limestone  conditions  prevail ;  but 
this  is  its  natural  habitat.  On  all  this  elevated  rolling 
plateau  the  limestone  is  near  the  surface.  This  grass 
blooms  towards  the  middle  of  June  in  a  bluish,  almost 
a  peacock  blue,  blossom,  which  gives  to  the  fields  an 
exquisite  hue.  By  the  end  of  the  month  the  seed 
ripens  into  a  yellowish  color,  and  while  the  grass  is 


Kentucky. 


369 


still  green  and  lush  underneath,  the  surface  presents 
much  the  appearance  of  a  high  New  England  pasture 
in  August.  When  it  is  ripe,  the  top  is  cut  for  the  seed. 
The  limestone  and  the  blue-grass  together  determine 
the  agricultural  pre-eminence  of  the  region,  and  account 
for  the  fine  breeding  of  the  horses,  the  excellence  of 
the  cattle,  the  stature  of  the  men,  and  the  beauty  of 
the  Avomen;  but  they  have  social  and  moral  influence 
also.  It  could  not  well  be  otherwise,  considering  the  re- 
lation of  the  physical  condition  to  disposition  and  char- 
acter. We  should  be  surprised  if  a  rich  agricultural 
region,  healthful  at  the  same  time,  where  there  is  abun- 
dance of  food,  and  wholesome  cooking  is  the  rule,  did 
not  affect  the  tone  of  social  life.  And  I  am  almost 
prepared  to  go  further,  and  think  that  blue-grass  is  a 
specific  for  physical  beauty  and  a  certain  graciousness 
of  life.  I  have  been  told  that  there  is  a  natural  rela- 
tion between  Presbyterianism  and  blue-grass,  and  am 
pointed  to  the  Shenandoah  and  to  Kentucky  as  evi- 
dence of  it.  Perhaps  Presbyterians  naturally  seek  a 
limestone  country.  But  the  relation,  if  it  exists,  is  too 
subtle  and  the  facts  are  too  few  to  build  a  theory  on. 
Still,  I  have  no  doubt  there  is  a  distinct  variety  of 
woman  known  as  the  blue-grass  girl.  A  geologist 
told  me  that  once  when  he  was  footing  it  over  the 
State  with  a  geologist  from  another  State,  as  they  ap- 
proached the  blue-grass  region  from  the  southward 
they  were  carefully  examining  the  rock  formation  and 
studying  the  surface  indications,  which  are  usually 
marked  on  the  border  line,  to  determine  exactly  whero 
the  peculiar  limestone  formation  began.  Indications, 
however,  were  wanting.  Suddenly  my  geologist  look- 
ed up  the  road  and  exclaimed  : 
24 


370 


South  and  West. 


"  We  are  in  the  blue-grass  region  now." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"  Why,  there  is  a  blue-grass  girl." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  neat  dress,  the  style, 
the  rounded  contours,  the  gracious  personage.  A  few 
steps  farther  on  the  geologists  found  the  outcropping 
of  the  blue  limestone. 

Perhaps  the  people  of  this  region  £ire  trying  to  live 
up  to  the  thorough-bred.  A  pedigree  is  a  necessity. 
The  horse  is  of  the  first  consideration,  and  either  has 
or  gives  a  sort  of  social  distinction;  first,  the  running 
horse,  the  thorough-bred,  and  now  the  trotting  horse, 
which  is  beginning  to  have  a  recognizable  descent, 
and  is  on  the  way  to  be  a  thorough-bred.  Many  of 
the  finest  plantations  are  horse  farms;  one  might  call 
them  the  feature  of  the  country.  Horse-raising  is 
here  a  science,  and  as  we  drive  from  one  estate  to 
another,  and  note  the  careful  tillage,  the  trim  fences, 
the  neat  stables,  the  pretty  paddocks,  and  the  houses 
of  the  favorites,  we  see  how  everything  is  intended  to 
contribute  to  the  perfection  in  refinement  of  fibre, 
speed,  .and  endurance  of  the  noble  animal.  Even  per- 
sons who  are  usually  indifferent  to  horses  cannot  but 
admire  these  beautiful  high-bred  creatures,  either  the 
famous  ones  displayed  at  the  stables,  or  the  colts  and 
fillies,  which  have  yet  their  reputations  to  make,  at 
play  in  the  blue-grass  pastures;  and  the  pleasure  one 
experiences  ia  a  refined  one  in  harmony  with  the  land- 
scape. Usually  horse-ilealing  carries  with  it  a  lower- 
ing of  the  moral  tone,  which  we  quite  understand 
Avhen  we  say  of  a  man  that  he  is  "  horsy."  I  suppose 
the  truth  is  that  man  has  degraded  the  idea  of  the 
horse  by  his  own  evil  passions,  using  him  to  gamble 


Kentucky. 


371 


and  cheat  with.  Now,  the  visitor  will  find  little  of 
these  degrading  associations  in  tlie  blue-grass  region. 
It  is  an  orthodox  and  a  moral  region.  The  best  and 
most  successful  horse-breeders  have  nothing  to  do 
with  racing  or  betting.  The  yearly  product  of  their 
farms  is  sold  at  auction,  without  reserve  or  favor. 
The  sole  business  is  the  production  of  the  best  animals 
that  science  and  care  can  breed.  Undeniably  where  the 
horse  is  of  such  importance  he  is  much  in  the  thought, 
and  the  use  of  "  horsy  "  phrases  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion shows  his  effect  upon  the  vocabulary.  The  re- 
cital of  pedigree  at  the  stables,  as  horse  after  horse  is 
led  out,  sounds  a  little  like  a  chapter  from  the  Book 
of  Genesis,  and  naturally  this  Biblical  formula  gets 
into  a  conversation  about  people. 

And  after  the  horses  there  is  whiskey.  There  are 
many  distilleries  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  a 
great  deal  of  whiskey  is  made.  I  am  not  defending 
whiskey,  at  least  any  that  is  less  than  thirty  years  old 
and  has  attained  a  medicinal  quality.  But  I  want  to 
express  my  opinion  that  this  is  as  temperate  as  any 
region  in  the  United  States.  There  is  a  wide-spread 
strict  temperance  sentiment,  and  even  prohibition  pre- 
vails to  a  considerable  degree.  AVhiskey  is  made  and 
stored,  and  mostly  shipped  away;  rightly  or  wrongly, 
it  is  regarded  as  a  legitimate  business,  like  wheat- 
raising,  and  is  conducted  by  honorable  men.  I  believe 
this  to  be  the  truth,  and  that  drunkenness  does  not 
prevail  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  distilleries,  nor  did  I 
see  anywhere  in  the  country  evidence  of  a  habit  of  dram 
drinking,  of  the  traditional  niatter-of -course  offering  of 
whiskey  as  a  hospitality.  It  is  true  that  mint  grows 
in  Kentucky,  and  that  there  are  persons  who  would 


^ 

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372 


South  and  West. 


\Km^ 


\.\ 


win  the  respect  of  a  tide-water  Virginian  in  the  con- 
coction of  a  julep.  And  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the 
born  Kentuckian  there  is  a  rooted  belief  that  if  a  per- 
son needed  a  stimulant,  the  best  he  can  take  is  old 
hand -made  whiskey.  Where  the  manufacture  of 
whiskey  is  the  source  of  so  much  revenue,  and  is 
carried  on  with  decorum,  of  course  the  public  senti- 
ment about  it  differs  from  that  of  a  community  that 
makes  its  money  in  raising  potatoes  for  starch.  Where 
the  horse  is  so  beautiful,  fleet,  and  profitable,  of  course 
there  is  intense  interest  in  hitii,  and  the  general  public 
take  a  lively  pleasure  in  the  races;  but  if  the  reader  has 
been  accustomed  to  associate  this  part  of  Kentucky 
with  horse-racing  and  drinking  as  prominent  character- 
istics, he  must  revise  his  opinion. 

Perhaps  certain  colonial  habits  lingered  longer  in 
Kentucky  than  elsewhere.  Travellers  have  spoken 
about  the  habit  of  profanity  and  gambling,  especially 
the  game  of  poker.  In  the  ^^''•»st  generally  profane 
swearing  is  not  as  bad  form  as  it  is  in  the  East.  But 
whatever  distinction  central  Kentucky  had  in  pro- 
fanity or  poker,  it  has  evident!/  lost  it.  The  duel 
lingered  long',  and  prompt  revenge  for  insults,  espe- 
cially to  women.  The  blue-grass  region  has  "  histo- 
ries " — beauty  has  been  fought  about ;  women  have 
had  careers ;  families  have  run  out  through  dissipation. 
One  may  hear  stories  of  this  sort  even  in  the  ]5erk- 
shiro  Hills,  in  any  place  where  there  have  been  long 
settlement,  wealth,  and  time  for  the  development  of 
family  and  personal  eccentricities.  And  there  is  still 
a  flavor  left  in  Kentucky;  there  is  still  a  subtle  differ- 
ence in  its  social  tone;  the  intelligent  women  are  at- 
tractive in  another  way  from  the  intelligent  New 


Kentucky, 


373 


England  women — they  have  a  charm  of  their  own. 
May  Heaven  long  postpone  the  day  when,  by  the 
commercial  spirit  and  trade  and  education,  we  shall  all 
be  alike  in  all  parts  of  the  Union  !  Yet  it  would  be 
no  disadvantage  to  anybody  if  the  graciousnesa,  the 
simplicity  of  manner,  the  refined  hospitality,  of  the 
blue-grass  region  should  spread  beyond  the  blue  lime- 
stone of  the  Lower  Silurian. 

In  the  excellent  State  Museum  at  Frankfort,  under 
the  charge  of  Prof.  John  R.  Procter,*  who  is  State 
Geologist  and  also  Director  of  the  Bureau  of  Immigra- 
tion, in  addition  to  the  admirable  exhibit  of  the  natu- 
ral resources  of  Kentucky,  are  photographs,  statistics, 
and  products  showing  the  condition  of  the  Swiss  and 
other  foreign  farming  colonies  recently  ostablished  in 
the  State,  which  were  so  interesting  and  offered  so 
many  instructive  points  that  I  determined  to  see  some 
of  the  colonies. 

This  museum  and  the  geological  department,  the 
intelligent  management  of  which  has  been  of  immense 
service  to  the  commonwealth,  is  in  one  of  the  detach- 
ed buildings  which  make  up  the  present  Capitol.  The 
Capitol  is  altogether  antiquated,  and  not  a  credit  to 
the  State.  The  room  in  which  the  Lower  House 
meets  is  shabby  and  mean,  yet  I  noticed  that  it  is 
fairly  well  lighted  by  side  windows,  and  debate  can 
be  heard  in  it  conducted  in  an  ordinary  tone  of  voice. 
Kentucky  will  before  many  years  be  accommodated 


*  Whatever  value  this  paper  has  is  so  largely  due  to  Pro- 
fessor Procter  that  I  desire  to  make  to  him  the  most  explicit 
acknowledgments.  One  of  the  very  best  results  of  the  war 
was  keeping  him  in  the  Union. 


374 


South  and  West. 


with  new  State  buiUllngs  more  suited  to  her  wealth 
and  dignity.  But  I  should  like  to  repeat  what  was 
said  in  relation  to  the  Capitol  of  Arkansas.  Why 
cannot  our  architects  devise  a  capitol  suited  to  the 
wants  of  those  who  occupy  it  ?  Why  must  we  go  on 
making  these  huge  inconvenient  structures,  mainly 
for  external  display,  in  which  the  legislative  Chambers 
are  vast  air-tight  and  water-tight  compartments,  com- 
monly completely  surrounded  by  other  rooms  and 
lobbies,  and  lighted  only  from  the  roof,  or  at  best  by 
high  windows  in  one  or  two  sides  that  permit  no  out- 
look— rooms  dilticult  to  speak  or  hear  in,  impossible 
to  ventilate,  needing  always  artificial  light  ?  Why 
should  the  Senators  of  the  United  States  be  compelled 
to  occupy  a  gilded  dungeon,  unlighted  ever  by  the 
sun,  un visited  ever  by  the  free  wind  of  heaven,  in 
which  the  air  is  so  foul  that  the  Senators  sicken':' 
What  sort  of  legislation  ought  we  to  expect  from 
such  Chambers  ?  It  is  perfectly  feasible  to  build  a 
legislative  room  cheerful  and  light,  open  freely  to  sun 
and  air  on  three  sides.  In  order  to  do  this  it  mav  be 
necessary  to  build  a  group  of  connected  buildings, 
instead  of  the  parallelogram  or  square,  which  is  most- 
ly domed,  with  gigantic  halls  and  stair- ways,  and,  con- 
sidering the  purpose  for  which  it  is  intended,  is  a  libel 
on  our  ingenuity  and  a  burlesque  on  our  civilization. 
Kentucky  has  gone  to  work  in  a  very  sensible  way 
to  induce  immigration  and  to  attract  settlers  of  the 
right  sort.  The  Bureau  of  Immigration  was  estab- 
lished in  1880.  It  began  to  publish  facts  about  the 
State,  in  regard  to  the  geologic  formation,  the  soils, 
the  price  of  lands,  both  the  uncleared  and  the  lands 
injured  by  slovenly  culture,  the  kind  and  amount  of 


Kentucky. 


375 


products  that  might  bo  expected  by  thrifty  farming, 
und  the  climate  ;  not  exaggerated  general  proclama- 
tions promising  sudden  wealth  with  little  labor,  but 
facts  such  as  would  attract  the  attention  of  men  willing 
to  work  in  order  to  obtain  for  themselves  and  their 
children  comfort.ible  homes  and  modest  independence. 
Invitations  were  made  for  a  thorough  examination 
of  lands — of  the  different  sorts  of  soils  in  different 
counties — before  purchase  and  settlement.  The  lead- 
ing idea  was  to  induce  industrious  farmers  who  were 
poor,  or  had  not  money  enough  to  purchase  high- 
priced  improved  lands,  to  settle  upon  lands  that  the 
majority  of  Kentuekians  considered  scarcely  worth 
cultivating,  and  the  belief  was  that  good  farming 
would  show  that  these  neglected  lands  were  capable 
of  becoming  very  productive.  Eight  years'  experi- 
ence has  fully  justified  all  these  expectations.  Colo- 
nies of  Swiss,  Germans,  Austrians,  have  come,  and 
Swedes  also,  and  these  have  attracted  many  from  the 
North  and  North-west.  In  this  period  I  suppose  as 
many  as  ten  thousand  immigrants  of  this  class,  thrifty 
cultivators  of  the  soil,  have  come  into  the  State,  many 
of  whom  are  scattered  about  the  State,  unconnected 
with  the  so-called  colonies.  These  colonies  are  not 
organized  communities  in  any  way  separated  from  the 
general  inhabitants  of  the  State.  They  have  merely 
settled  together  for  comprnionsliip  and  social  reasons, 
where  a  sufficiently  large  tract  of  cheaj)  land  was 
found  to  accommodate  them.  Each  family  owns  its 
own  farm,  and  is  perfectly  independent.  An  indis- 
criminate immigration  has  not  been  desired  or  encour- 
aged, but  the  better  class  of  laboring  agriculturists, 
grape-growers,  and  stock-raisers.     There  are  several 


If 
\> 

i 

» 

I 

1:1' 

M 


hi 


876 


South  and  West. 


BCttlcments  of  these,  chiefly  Swiss,  dairy-farmers, 
cheese-makers,  and  vine-growers,  in  Laurel  County  ; 
otliers  in  Lincoln  County,  composed  of  Swiss,  Ger- 
mans, and  Austrians  ;  a  mixed  colony  in  Rock  Castle 
County  ;  a  thriving  settlement  of  Austrians  in  Boyle 
County  ;  a  temperance  colony  of  Scandinavians  in 
Edmonson  County  ;  another  Scandinavian  colony  in 
Grayson  County ;  and  scattered  settlements  of  Ger- 
mans and  Scandinavians  in  Christiiin  County.  These 
settlements  have  from  one  hundred  to  over  a  thou- 
sand inhabitants  each.  The  lands  in  Laurel  and  Lin- 
coln counties,  which  I  travelled  through,  are  on  a 
high  plateau,  with  good  air  and  temperate  climate, 
but  with  a  somewhat  thin,  loamy,  and  sandy  soil, 
needing  manure,  and  called  generally  in  the  State 
poor  land  —  poor  certainly  compared  with  the  blue- 
grass  region  and  other  extraordinarily  fertile  sections. 
These  farms,  which  had  been  more  or  less  run  over 
by  Kentucky  farming,  were  sold  at  from  one  to  five 
dollars  an  acre.  They  are  farms  that  a  man  cannot 
live  on  in  idleness.  But  they  respond  well  to  thrifty 
tillage,  and  it  is  a  sight  worth  a  long  journey  to  see 
the  beautiful  farms  these  Swiss  have  made  out  of  land 
that  the  average  Kcntuckian  thought  not  worth  cul- 
tivating. It  has  not  been  done  without  hard  work, 
and  as  most  of  the  immigrants  were  poor,  many  of 
them  have  had  a  hard  struggle  in  building  comfort- 
able houses,  reducing  the  neglected  land  to  order,  and 
obtaining  stock.  A  great  attraction  to  the  Swiss  was 
that  this  land  is  adapted  to  vine  culture,  and  a  rea- 
sonable profit  was  expected  from  selling  grapes  and 
making  wine.  The  vineyards  are  still  young;  exper- 
iment has  not  yet  settled  what  kind  of  grapes  flourish 


Kentucky, 


377 


best,  but  many  vine-growers  have  realized  handsome 
profits  in  the  sale  of  fruit,  and  the  trial  is  sufficient  to 
show  that  good  wine  can  bo  produced.  The  only  in- 
terference thus  far  with  the  grapes  has  been  the  un- 
l»recedented  late  freeze  last  spring. 

At  the  recent  exposition  in  Louisville  the  exhibit  of 
these  Swiss  colonies — the  photographs  showing  the 
appearance  of  the  unkempt  land  when  they  bought 
it,  and  the  fertile  fields  of  grain  and  meadow  and 
vineyards  afterwards,  and  the  neat,  plain  farm  cot- 
tages, the  pretty  Swiss  chalet  with  its  attendants  of 
intelligent  comely  girls  in  native  costumes  offering 
articles  illustrating  the  taste  and  the  thrift  of  the  col- 
onies, wood-carving,  the  products  of  the  dairy,  and 
the  fruit  of  the  vine — attracted  great  attention. 

I  cannot  better  convey  to  the  reader  the  impression 
I  wish  to  in  regard  to  this  colonization  and  its  lesson 
for  the  country  at  large  than  by  speaking  more  in 
detail  of  one  of  the^wiss  settlements  in  Laurel  County. 
This  is  Bernstadt,  about  six  miles  from  Pittsburg,  on 
the  Louisville  and  Nashville  road,  a  coal-mining  re- 
gion, and  offering  a  good  market  for  the  produce  of 
the  Swiss  farmers.  We  did  not  need  to  be  told  when 
we  entered  the  colony  lands  ;  neater  houses,  thrifty 
farming,  and  better  roads  proclaimed  it.  It  is  not  a 
garden-spot ;  in  some  respects  it  is  a  pooi-looking 
country  ;  but  it  has  abundant  timber,  good  water, 
good  air,  a  soil  of  light  sandy  loam,  which  is  produc- 
tive under  good  tillage.  There  are  here,  I  suppose, 
some  two  hundred  and  fifty  families,  scattered  about 
over  a  large  area,  each  on  its  farm.  There  is  no  col- 
lection of  houses ;  the  church  (Lutheran),  the  school- 
house,  the  store,  the  post-oflice,  the  hotel,  are  widely 


III 


1 


.1 1 


s\\ 


\  \ 


I. 


m 


. 


n 


I 


III 


wmH 


378 


South  and  West. 


k 


HCparntcd  ;  for  the  hotel-keepor,  the  store-keeper,  tlio 
poMtmaster,  and,  I  believe,  the  sehool-master  aud  the 
parson,  are  all  farmers  to  a  j^reater  or  less  extent.  It 
must  be  understood  that  it  is  a  primitive  settlement, 
havin<?  as  yet  very  little  that  is  picturesque,  a  commu- 
nity of  simple  working-i)eople.  Only  one  or  two  of 
the  houses  have  any  pretension  to  taste  in  architecture, 
but  this  will  come  in  time — the  vine-clad  porches,  the 
quaint  gables,  the  home-likeness.  The  Kentuckian, 
however,  will  notice  the  barns  for  the  stock,  and  a 
general  thrif'iness  about  the  places.  And  the  appear- 
ance of  the  farms  is  an  object-lesson  of  the  highest 
value. 

The  chief  interest  to  me,  however,  was  the  character 
of  the  settlers.  Most  of  them  were  j)Oor,  used  to  hard 
work  and  scant  returns  for  it  in  Switzerland.  What 
they  have  accomplished,  therefore,  is  the  result  of 
industry,  and  not  of  capital.  There  are  among  tlu' 
colonists  skilled  laborers  in  other  things  tlian  vine- 
growing  and  cheese-making — watch-makers  and  wood- 
carvers  and  adepts  in  various  trades.  The  thrifty 
young  farmer  at  whoso  pretty  house  m'c  spent  the 
night,  and  who  has  saw-mills  at  Pittsburg,  is  of  one  of 
the  best  Swiss  families;  his  father  was  for  many  years 
President  of  the  republic,  and  he  was  a  graduate  of 
the  university  at  Lucerne.  There  were  others  of  the 
best  blood  and  breeding  and  schooling,  and  men  of 
scientific  attainments.  But  they  are  all  at  work  close 
to  the  soil.  As  a  rule,  however,  the  colonists  were 
men  and  women  of  small  means  at  home.  The  notable 
thing  is  that  they  bring  with  them  a  certain  old  civil- 
ization, a  unity  of  simplicity  of  life  with  real  refine- 
ment, courtesy,  politeness,  good-humor.     The  girls 


KenUtcky. 


379 


would  not  bo  above  j?oiii^  out  to  Horvico,  an«l  tlioy 
wouKl  not  loso  their  8t'If-ivspc'ot  in  it.  Many  of  them 
wouhl  bo  Jeseribed  as  '*  peasants,"  but  I  saw  some,  not 
above  the  hibors  of  the  jjouse  and  farm,  with  real 
uraeo  and  «lii»nilv  of  manner  and  eliarm  of  eonversa- 
lion.  Few  of  them  as  yet  speak  any  Knglish,  but  in 
most  houses  are  evidences  of  some  (terman  eidture. 
Tniforndy  there  was  eourtesy  and  frank  hospitality. 
The  commuiuty  amuses  itself  rationally.  It  has  a 
very  good  brass  band,  a  singing  club,  and  in  the  even- 
ings and  holidays  it  is  apt  to  assemble  at  the  hotel  and 
take  a  little  wine  and  sing  the  songs  of  father-land. 
The  hotel  is  indeed  at  present  without  accommoda- 
tions for  lodgers  —  nothing  but  a  Wti't/tn/tans,  with  a 
(terman  ga.rden  where  dancing  may  take  place  now 
and  then.  With  all  the  hard  labor,  they  have  an  idea 
of  the  simi)le  comforts  and  enjoyments  of  life.  And 
they  live  very  well,  though  plainly.  At  a  house  where 
wc  dined,  in  the  colony  Strasburg,  near  Hernstadt,  we 
had  an  excellent  diimer,  well  served,  and  including 
delicious  soup.  If  the  colony  never  did  anything  else 
than  teach  that  part  of  the  State  how  to  make  soup, 
its  existence  would  be  justified.  Here,  in  short,  is  an 
dement  of  homely  thrift,  civilization  on  a  rational 
basis,  good-citizenship,  very  desirable  in  any  Stafo. 
^lay  their  vineyards  flourish !  When  we  departed 
early  in  the  morning — it  was  not  yet  seven — a  dozen 
Switzers,  fresh  from  the  dewy  fields,  in  their  working 
dresses,  had  assembled  at  the  hotel,  where  the  young 
landlady  also  smiled  a  welcome,  to  send  us  off  with  a 
song,  which  ended,  as  we  drove  away,  in  a  good-bye 
i/odel. 
A  line  drawn  from  the  junction  of  the  Scioto  River 


V 


i 


n 


>'• 


'■  '   'I  ; 


1 1 


380 


South  and  West. 


M 


1.'  f  ? 


with  the  Ohio  south-west  to  a  point  in  the  southern 
boundary  about  thirty  miles  east  of  where  the  Cum- 
berland leaves  the  State  defines  the  eastern  coal-meas- 
ures of  Kentucky.  In  area  it  is  about  a  quarter  of  tlu' 
State — a  region  of  plateaus,  mountains,  narrow  val- 
leys, cut  in  all  directions  by  clear,  rapid  streams,  stulT- 
ed,  one  may  say,  with  coals,  streaked  with  iron. 
abounding  in  limestone,  and  covered  with  superb  for- 
ests. Independent  of  other  States  a  most  remarkable 
region,  but  considered  in  its  relation  to  the  coals  and 
iron  ores  of  West  Virginia,  western  Virginia,  and  east- 
ern Tennessee,  it  becomes  one  of  the  most  important 
and  interesting  regions  in  the  Union.  Looking  to  tlic 
south-eastern  border,  I  hazard  nothing  in  saying  that 
the  country  from  the  IJreaks  of  Sandy  down  to  Jiig 
Creek  Gap  (in  the  Cumberland  JMountain),  in  Tennes- 
see, is  on  the  eve  of  an  astonishing  development — one 
that  will  revolutionize  eastern  Kentucky,  and  power- 
fully affect  the  iron  and  coal  markets  of  the  country. 
It  is  a  region  that  appeals  as  well  to  the  imagination 
of  the  traveller  as  to  the  capitalist.  My  personal  ob- 
servation of  it  extends  only  to  the  portion  from  Cum- 
berland Gap  to  Big  Stone  Gap,  and  the  head-waters 
of  the  Cumberland  between  Cumberland  Mountain 
and  Pine  Mountain,  but  I  saw  enough  to  comprehontl 
why  eager  purchasers  are  buying  the  forests  and  tlu' 
mining  rights,  why  great  companies,  American  and 
English,  are  planting  themselves  there  and  laving 
the  foundations  of  cities,  and  why  the  gigantic  rail- 
way corporations  are  straining  every  nerve  to  pcm- 
trate  the  mineral  and  forest  heart  of  the  region.  A 
dozen  roads,  projected  and  in  progress,  are  pointcnl 
towards  this  centre.     It  is  a  race  for  the  prize.     Tlir 


.   'i 


Kentucky. 


881 


-V  I 


Louisville  Jind  Nashville,  running  through  soft-coal 
Holds  to  Jellico  and  on  to  Knoxville,  branches  from 
C'orbin  to  Barboursville  (an  old  and  thriving  town) 
and  to  Pineville.  From  Pinevillo  it  is  under  contract, 
thirteen  miles,  to  Cumberland  Gap.  This  gap  is  be- 
ing tunnelled  (work  going  on  at  both  ends)  by  an  in- 
dependent company,  the  tunnel  to  be  open  to  all 
roads.  The  Louisville  and  Nashville  may  run  up 
the  south  side  of  the  Cumberland  rancje  to  \V\<f  Stone 
(^ap,  or  it  may  ascend  the  Cumberland  River  and  its 
Clover  Fork,  and  pass  over  to  Big  Stone  Gap  that 
way,  or  it  may  do  both.  A  road  is  building  from 
Knoxville  to  Cumberland  Gap,  and  from  Johnson  City 
to  Big  Stone  Gap.  A  road  is  running  from  l^ristol  to 
within  twenty  miles  of  Big  Stone  Gap;  another  road 
nears  the  same  place — the  extension  of  the  Norfolk 
and  Western — from  Pocahontas  down  the  Clinch  Riv- 
er. From  the  nortl\;west  many  roads  are  projected  to 
pierce  the  great  deposits  of  coking  and  cannel  coals, 
and  find  or  bore  a  way  through  the  mountain  ridges 
into  south-western  Virginia.  One  of  these,  the  Ken- 
tucky Union,  starting  from  Lexington  (which  is  be- 
coming a  great  railroad  centre),  has  reached  Clay  City, 
and  will  soon  be  open  to  the  Three  Forks  of  the  Ken- 
tucky River,  and  on  to  Jackson,  in  Breathitt  County. 
Tiiese  valley  and  transridge  roads  will  bring  within 
short  hauling  distance  of  each  other  as  great  a  variety 
of  iron  ores  of  high  and  low  grade,  and  of  coals,  cok- 
ing and  other,  as  can  be  found  anywhere — according 
to  the  official  reports,  greater  than  anywhere  else 
within  the  same  radius.  As  an  item  it  may  be  men- 
tioned that  the  rich,  pure,  magnetic  iron  ore  used  in 
the  manufacture  of  Bessemer  steel,  found   in  East 


ii  I 


H' 


ti  >  i .. 


\ 


\  t-   •  S,l  Iji 


382 


South  and  West. 


Tennessee  and  North  C.arolina,  and  developed  in  great- 
est abundance  at  Cranberry  Forge,  is  within  one  hun- 
dred miles  of  the  superior  Kentucky  coking  coal. 
This  contiguity  (a  contiguity  of  coke,  ore,  and  lime- 
stone) in  this  region  points  to  the  manufacture  ot 
Bessemer  steel  here  at  less  cost  than  it  is  now  else- 
where made. 

It  is  unnecessary  that  I  should  go  into  details  as  tn 
the  ore  and  coal  dcjiosits  of  this  region  :  the  official 
reports  are  accessible.  It  may  be  said,  however,  that 
the  reports  of  the  Geological  Survey  as  to  both  coal 
and  iron  have  been  recently  perfectly  confirmed  by 
the  digging  of  experts.  Aside  from  the  coal-measures 
below  the  sandstone,  there  have  been  found  above  the 
sandstone,  north  of  Pine  Mountain,  1650  feet  of  coal- 
moasures,  containing  nine  beds  of  coal  of  workabl*' 
thickness,  and  between  Pine  and  Cumberland  mount- 
ains there  is  a  greater  thickness  of  coal-measures, 
containing  twelve  or  more  workable  beds.  Some  of 
these  are  coking  coals  of  great  excellence.  Canncl- 
coals  are  found  in  sixteen  of  the  counties  in  the  east- 
ern coal-fields.  Two  of  them  at  least  are  of  unexampled 
richness  and  purity.  The  value  of  a  cannel-eoal  is  de- 
termined by  its  volatile  combustible  matter.  By  this 
test  some  of  the  Kentucky  cannel-coal  excels  the  most 
celebrated  coals  of  Great  Britain.  An  analysis  of  a 
cannel-coal  in  Breathitt  Countv  QrivesG6.28  of  volatile 
combustible  matter;  the  highest  in  Great  Binain  is 
the  Boghead,  Scotland,  51.60  per  cent.  This  beauti- 
ful cannel-coal  has  been  brought  out  in  small  quantities 
via  the  Kentucky  River ;  it  will  have  a  market  all 
over  the  country  when  the  railways  reach  it.  The 
first  coal  identified  as  coking  was  named  the  Elkhonu 


Kentucky. 


383 


from  the  stream  where  it  was  found  in  Pike  County. 
A  thick  bed  of  it  has  been  traced  over  an  area  of  1600 
square  miles,  covering  several  counties,  but  attaining 
its  greatest  thickness  in  Letcher,  Pike,  and  Harlan. 
This  discovery  of  coking  coal  adds  greatly  to  the 
value  of  the  iron  ores  in  north-eastern  Kentucky,  and 
in  the  Red  and  Kentuckv  valleys,  and  also  of  the  tjrreat 
deposits  of  ore  on  the  south-east  boundary,  along  the 
western  base  of  the  Cumberland,  along  the  slope  of 
Powell's  Mountain,  and  also  along  Wjillin's  Ridge, 
three  parallel  lines,  convenient  to  the  coking  coal  in 
Kentucky.  This  is  the  Clinton  or  red  fossil  ore, 
stratified,  liaving  from  45  to  54  per  cent,  of  metallic 
iron.  Recently  has  been  found  on  the  north  side  of 
Pine  ^Mountain  in  Kentucky,  a  third  deposit  of  rich 
"  brown  "  ore,  averagi!ig  52  per  cent,  of  metallic  iron. 
This  is  the  same  as  the  celebrated  brown  ore  used  in 
tiie  furnaces  at  Clifton  Forge;  it  makes  a  very  tough 
iron.  I  saw  a  vein  of  it  on  Straight  Creek,  three 
miles  north  of  Pineville,  just  opened,  at  least  eight 
feet  thick. 

The  railway  to  Pineville  follows  the  old  Wilder- 
ness road,  the  trail  of  Boone  and  the  stage-road, 
along  Avhich  are  seen  the  ancient  tavern  stands  where 
the  jolly  story-telling  travellers  of  fifty  years  ago  were 
tntertained  and  the  droves  of  horses  and  cattle  were 
fed.  The  railway  has  been  stopped  a  mile  west  <»f 
Pineville  by  a  belligerent  property  owner,  who  sits 
there  with  his  Winchester  rifle,  and  will  not  let  the 
work  go  on  until  the  courts  compel  him.  The  railway 
will  not  cross  the  Cumberland  at  Pineville,  but  higher 
up.  near  the  great  elbow.  There  was  no  bridge  over 
the  stream,  and  we  crossed  at  a  very  rough  and  rocky 


¥ 


,1  .<! 


'\ 


\   i     !• 


I^Jb 


'A 


\ 


384 


South  and  West. 


! .      i 


1.' 


wagon-ford.  Pineville,  where  there  has  long  been  n 
backwoods  settlement  on  the  south  bend  of  the  rivoi- 
just  after  it  breaks  through  Pine  Mountain,  is  now  the 
centre  of  a  good  deal  of  mining  excitement  .and  real- 
estate  speculation.  It  has  about  five  hundred  inhabi- 
tants, and  a  temporary  addition  of  land  buyers,  mineral 
experts,  engineers,  furnace  projectors,  and  railway  con- 
tractors. There  is  not  level  ground  for  a  large  city,  but 
what  there  is  is  plotted  out  for  sale.  The  abundant  iron 
ore,  coal,  and  timber  here  j^redict  for  it  a  future  of 
some  importance.  It  has  already  a  smart  new  hotel, 
and  business  buildings,  and  churches  are  in  process  of 
erection.  The  society  of  the  town  had  gathered  for 
the  evening  at  the  hotel.  A  wandering  one-eyed 
fiddler  was  providentially  present  who  could  sing  and 
play  "  The  Arkansas  Traveller  "  and  other  tunes  that 
lift  the  heels  of  the  j'^oung,  and  also  accompany  tlio 
scream  of  the  violin  with  the  droning  bagpipe  notes 
of  the  mouth-harmonica.  The  star  of  the  gay  com- 
pany was  a  graduate  of  Annapolis,  in  full  evening 
dress  uniform,  a  native  boy  of  the  valley,  and  his  vis- 
a-vis was  a  heavy  man  in  a  long  linen  duster  and  car- 
pet slippers,  with  a  palm-leaf  fan,  who  crashed 
through  the  cotillon  with  good  effect.  It  was  a  pleas- 
ant party,  and  long  after  it  had  dispersed,  the  trou- 
badour, sitting  on  the  piazza,  wiled  away  sleep  by  the 
break-downs,  jigs,  and  songs  of  the  frontier. 

Pineville  and  its  vicinity  have  many  attractions; 
the  streams  are  clear,  rapid,  rocky,  the  foliage  abun- 
dant, the  hills  picturesque.  Straight  Creek,  which 
comes  in  along  the  north  base  of  Pine  Mountain,  is 
an  exceedingly  picturesque  stream,  having  along  its 
banks  fertile  little  stretches  of  level  ground,  while  the 


Kentucky. 


38 


a 


gentle  bordering  hills  are  excellent  for  grass,  fruit 
orchards,  and  vineyards.  The  walnut-trees  have  been 
culled  out,  but  there  is  abundance  of  oak,  beech, 
poplar,  cucumber,  and  small  pines.  And  there  is  no 
doubt  about  the  mineral  wealth. 

We  drove  from  Pineville  to  Cumberland  Gap, 
thirteen  miles,  over  the  now  neglected  Wilderness 
road,  the  two  mules  of  the  wagon  unable  to  pull  us 
faster  than  two  miles  an  hour.  The  road  had  every 
variety  of  badness  conceivable  —  loose  stones,  ledges 
of  rock,  bowlders,  sloughs,  holes,  mud,  sand,  deep 
fords.  We  crossed  and  followed  up  Clear  Creek  (a 
muddy  stream)  over  Log  IMountain  (full  of  coal)  to 
Canon  Creek.  Settlements  were  few — only  occasional 
poor  shar  Jes.  Climbing  over  another  ridge,we  reached 
the  Yellow  Creek  Valley,  through  which  the  Yellow 
C'reek  meanders  in_  sand.  This  whole  valley,  lying 
very  prettilj^  among  the  mountains,  has  a  bad  name 
for  "  difficulties."  The  hills  about,  on  the  sides  and 
toj)S  of  which  arc  ragged  little  farms,  and  the  valley 
itself,  still  contain  some  lawless  people.  We  looked 
with  some  interest  at  the  Turner  house,  where  a  sheriff 
was  killed  a  year  ago,  at  a  ])lace  where  a  "  severe  " 
man  fired  into  a  wagon-load  of  people  and  shot  a 
woman,  and  at  other  places  where  in  recent  times  dif- 
ferences of  opinion  had  been  settled  by  the  revolver. 
Tills  sort  of  thing  is,  however,  practically  over.  This 
valley,  close  to  Cumberland  Gap,  is  the  site  of  the 
great  city,  already  plotted,  which  the  English  company 
are  to  build  as  soon  as  the  tunnel  is  completed.  It  is 
called  Middleborough,  and  the  streets  arc  being  graded 
and  preparations  made  for  building  furnaces.  The 
north  side  of  Cumberland  Mountain,  like  the  south 
25 


(■   fi 


386 


South  and  West. 


:     'I 


side  of  Pine,  is  a  conglomerate,  covered  with  superb 
oak  and  chestnut  trees.  We  climbed  up  to  the  mount- 
ain over  a  winding  road  of  ledges,  bowlders,  and  deep 
gullies,  rising  to  an  extended  pleasing  prospect  of 
mountains  and  valleys.  The  pass  has  a  historic  in- 
terest, not  only  as  the  ancient  highway,  but  as  the 
path  of  armies  in  the  Civil  War.  It  is  narrow,  a  deep 
road  between  overhanging  rocks.  It  is  easily  de- 
fended. A  light  bridge  thrown  over  the  road,  leadincj 
to  rifle-pits  and  breastworks  on  the  north  side,  remains 
to  attest  the  warlike  occupation.  Above,  on  the  b.iM 
highest  rocky  head  on  the  north,  guns  were  planted 
to  command  the  pass.  Two  or  three  houses,  a  black- 
smith's shop,  a  drinking  tavern,  behind  which  on  the 
rocks  four  men  were  playing  old  sledge,  made  up  the 
sum  of  its  human  attractions  as  we  saw  it.  Just  here 
in  the  pass  Kentuck)',  Tennessee,  and  Virginia  touch 
each  other.  Virginia  inserts  a  narrow  wedge  between 
the  other  two.  On  our  wav  down  the  wild  and  i)ict- 
uresque  road  we  crossed  the  State  of  Virginia  and 
went  to  the  new  English  hotel  in  Tennessee.  We 
passed  a  magnificent  spring,  which  sends  a  torrent  of 
water  into  the  valley,  and  turns  a  great  millwhcel — a 
picture  in  its  green  setting  —  saw  the  opening  of  the 
tunnel  with  its  shops  and  machinery,  noted  the  few 
houses  and  company  stores  of  the  new  settlement, 
climbed  the  hill  to  the  pretty  hotel,  and  sat  down  on 
the  piazza  to  look  at  the  scene.  The  view  is  a  strik- 
ing one.  The  valley  through  which  the  Powell  River 
runs  is  pleasant,  and  the  bold,  bare  mountain  of  rock 
at  the  right  of  the  pass  is  a  noble  feature  in  the  land- 
scape. With  what  joy  must  the  early  wilderness  pil- 
grims have  hailed  this  landmark,  this  gate-way  to  the 


i  I 


Kentucky. 


387 


Paradise  beyond  the  mountains  !  Some  miles  north 
in  the  range  arc  the  White  Rocks,  gleaming  in  the 
sun  and  conspicuous  from  afar,  the  first  signal  to  the 
weary  travellers  from  the  east  of  the  region  they 
sought.  Cumberland  Gap  is  full  of  expectation,  and 
only  awaits  the  completion  of  the  tunnel  to  enter  upon 
its  development.  Here  railways  from  the  north, 
south,  and  west  are  expected  to  meet,  and  in  the  Yel- 
low Creek  Valley  beyond,  tlie  English  are  to  build  a 
great  manufacturing  city.  The  valleys  and  sides  of 
these  mountain  ranges  (which  have  a  uniform  eleva- 
tion of  not  much  more  than  2000  to  2500  feet)  enjoy 
a  delightful  climate,  moderate  in  the  winter  and  tem- 
perate in  the  summer.  This  whole  region,  when  it  is 
accessible  by  rail,  will  be  attractive  to  tourists. 

We  pursued  our  journey  up  the  Powell  River  Val- 
ley, along  the  base  of  the  Cumberland,  on  horseback 
— one  day  in  a  wagon  in  this  country  ought  to  satisfy 
anybody.  The  roads,  however,  are  better  on  this  side 
of  the  mountain;  all  through  Lee  County,  in  Virginia, 
in  spots  very  good.  This  is  a  very  fine  valley,  with 
good  water,  cold  and  clear,  growing  in  abundance  oats 
and  corn,  a  constant  succession  of  pretty  views.  We 
dined  excellently  at  a  neat  farm-house  on  the  river, 
and  slept  at  the  house  of  a  very  prosperous  farmer 
near  Boon's  Path  post-office.  Here  we  are  abreast 
the  White  Rocks,  the  highest  point  of  the  Cumber- 
land (3451  feet),  that  used  to  be  the  beacon  of  immi- 
gration. The  valley  grows  more  and  more  beautiful 
as  we  go  up,  full  fields  of  wheat,  corn,  oats,  friendly 
to  fruit  of  all  sorts,  with  abundance  of  walnut,  oak, 
and  chestnut  timber — a  fertile,  agreeable  valley,  settled 
with  well-to-do  farmers.     The  next  morning,  beauti- 


;  \ 


H-*i 


I  HI 


4i 


t 

\ 


ijByn  I.  L 

tl^'l'  ' 

mL. 

r    1  < 

1    /-A 

U   ^:        ^ 

1  'i  ^. 

r     ?    ■' 

|,lj    i 

i^^  I'' 

l»l 


IP? 


388 


/iSbw//t  and  West. 


fully  clear  and  sparkling,  wo  were  off  at  seven  o'clock 
through  a  lovely  broken  country,  following  the  line  of 
Cumberland  (here  called  Stone)  Mountain,  alternately 
little  hills  and  meadows,  cultivated  hill-sides,  Htretches 
of  rich  valley,  exquisite  views — a  land  pictures<iue  and 
thriving.  C'ontinuing  for  nine  miles  up  Powell  Val- 
ley, we  turned  to  the  left  through  a  break  in  the  hills 
into  Poor  Valley,  a  narrow,  wild,  sweet  ravine  among 
the  hills,  with  a  swift  crystal  stream  overhung  by 
masses  of  rhododendrons  in  bloom,  and  shaded  by 
magnificent  forest-trees.  We  dined  at  a  farm-house 
by  Pennington's  Gap,  and  had  a  swim  in  the  north 
fork  of  Powell  River,  which  here,  with  many  a  leap, 
breaks  through  the  bold  scenery  in  the  gap.  Farther 
on,  the  valley  was  broader  and  more  fertile,  and  along 
the  wide  reaches  of  the  river  grew  enormous  beech- 
trees,  the  russet  foliage  of  which  took  on  an  exquisite 
color  towards  evening.  Indeed,  the  ride  all  day  was 
excitingly  interesting,  with  the  great  trees,  the  narrow 
rich  valleys,  the  frequent  sparkling  streams,  and  lovely 
mountain  views.  At  sunset  we  came  to  the  house  of 
an  important  farmer  who  has  wide  possessions,  about 
thirteen  miles  from  Big  Stone  Gap.  We  have  nothing 
whatever  against  him  except  that  he  routed  us  out  at 
five  o'clock  of  a  foggy  Sunday  morning,  wliich  prom- 
ised to  be  warm — July  1st — to  send  us  on  our  way  to 
"  the  city."  All  along  we  had  lieard  of  "  the  city." 
In  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles  Big  Stone  Gap  is  called 
nothing  but  "the  city,"  and  our  anticipations  were 
raised. 

That  morning's  ride  I  shall  not  forget.  We  crossed 
and  followed  Powell  River.  All  along  the  banks  are 
set  the  most  remarkable  beech-trees  I  have  ever  seen 


Kentucky. 


389 


— great,  wide-spreading,  clean-boled  trees,  overshad- 
ing  the  stream,  and  giving  under  their  boughs,  nearly 
all  the  way,  ravishingly  lovely  views,  "i'his  was  the 
paradisiacal  way  to  Big  Stone  Oap,  which  wo  found 
to  be  a  round  broken  valley,  shut  in  by  wooded  mount- 
ains, covered  more  or  less  with  fine  trees,  the  meeting- 
place  of  the  l*o\vell  River,  which  comes  through  the 
gaj),  and  its  south  fork.  In  the  round  elevation  be- 
tween them  is  the  inviting  place  of  the  future  city. 
There  are  two  Big  Stone  Gaps — the  one  open  fields 
and  forests,  a  settlement  of  some  thirty  to  forty 
houses,  most  of  them  new  and  many  in  process  of 
building,  a  hotel,  and  some  tents  ;  the  other,  the  city 
on  the  map.  The  latter  is  selling  in  small  lots,  has 
wide  avenues,  parks,  one  of  the  finest  hotels  in  the 
South,  banks,  warehouses,  and  all  that  can  attract  the 
business  man  or  the  summer  lounger. 

The  heavy  investments  in  Big  Stone  Gap  and  the 
region  I  should  say  were  fully  justified  by  the  natural 
advantages.  It  is  a  country  of  great  beauty,  noble 
mountain  ranges,  with  the  valleys  diversified  by  small 
hills,  fertile  intervales,  fine  streams,  and  a  splendid 
forest  growth.  If  the  anticipations  of  an  important 
city  at  the  gap  are  half  realized,  the  slopes  of  the  hills 
and  natural  terraces  will  be  dotted  with  beautiful  res- 
idences, agreeable  in  both  summer  and  winter.  It 
was  the  warmest  time  of  the  year  when  Ave  were  there, 
but  the  air  was  fresh  and  full  of  vitality.  The  Big 
Stone  Gap  Improvement  Company  has  the  city  and 
its  site  in  charge;  it  is  a  consolidation  of  the  various 
interests  of  railway  companies  and  heavy  capitalists, 
who  have  purchased  the  land.  The  money  and  the 
character  of  the  men  behind  the  enterprise  insure  a 


.u      ( 


{I  I 


390 


South  and  West. 


.,1 


vigorous  i)rosccution  of  it.  On  the  west  side  of  the 
river  arc  the  depot  and  switching-grounds  whicli  the 
several  railways  have  reserved  for  their  use,  and  hero 
also  are  to  bo  the  furnaces  and  shops.  When  the  city 
outgrows  its  present  site  it  can  extend  up  valleys  in 
several  directions.  Wo  rode  through  fine  forests  up 
the  lovely  Powell  Valley  to  I*owell  Mountain,  where 
a  broad  and  beautiful  meadow  offers  a  site  for  a  sub- 
urban village.  The  city  is  already  planning  for  sub- 
urbs. A  few  miles  south  of  the  city  a  powerful 
stream  of  clear  water  falls  over  precipices  and  rocks 
seven  hundred  feet  in  continuous  rapids.  This  is  not 
only  a  charming  addition  to  the  scenic  attractions  of 
the  region,  but  the  stream  will  supply  the  town  with 
excellent  water  and  unlimited  "power."  IJeyond,  ten 
miles  to  the  north-east,  rises  High  Knob,  a  very  sightly 
point,  where  one  gets  the  sort  of  view  of  four  States 
that  ho  sees  on  an  atlas.  It  is  indeed  a  delightful 
region  ;  but  however  one  may  be  charmed  by  its  nat- 
ural beauty,  ho  cannot  spend  a  day  at  Big  Stone  Ga]) 
without  being  infected  with  the  great  enterprises 
brooding  there. 

Wo  forded  Powell  River  and  ascended  through  the 
gap  on  its  right  bank.  Before  entering  the  gorge  we 
galloped  over  a  beautiful  level  plateau,  the  counter- 
part of  that  where  the  city  is  laid  out,  reserved  for 
railways  and  furnaces.  From  this  point  the  valley  is 
seen  to  be  wider  than  we  suspected,  and  to  have  ample 
room  for  the  manufacturing  and  traffic  expected.  As 
wo  turned  to  see  what  wo  shall  never  see  again — the 
virgin  beauty  of  nature  in  this  site — the  whole  attract- 
iveness of  this  marvellously  picturesque  region  burst 
upon  us — the  great  forests,  the  clear  swift  streams, 


KenUicky. 


391 


tho  fertile  raeatlows,  the  wooded  mountains  that  have 
80  long  secluded  this  beauty  and  guarded  tho  treasures 
of  the  hills. 

The  pass  itself,  which  shows  from  a  distance  only  a 
dent  in  the  green  foliage,  surprised  us  by  its  wild 
beauty.  The  stony  road,  rising  little  by  little  above 
the  river,  runs  through  a  magnificent  forest,  gigantic 
trees  growing  in  the  midst  of  enormous  bowlders,  and 
towering  among  rocks  that  take  the  form  of  walls  and 
buttresses,  square  structures  like  the  Titanic  ruins  of 
castles  ;  below,  tho  river,  full  and  strong,  rages  over 
rocks  and  dashes  down,  filling  the  forest  with  its  roar, 
which  is  echoed  by  the  towering  cliffs  on  either  side. 
The  woods  were  fresh  and  glistening  from  recent 
rains,  but  what  made  the  final  charm  of  the  way  was 
the  bloom  of  the  rhododendron,  which  blazed  along 
the  road  and  illuminated  the  cool  recesses  of  the  for- 
est. The  time  for  the  blooming  of  the  azalea  and  the 
kalmia  (mountain-laurel)  was  past,  but  the  pink  and 
white  rhododendron  was  in  full  glory,  masses  of  bloom, 
not  small  stalks  lurking  like  underbrush,  but  on  bushes 
attaining  the  dignity  of  trees,  and  at  least  twenty-five 
feet  high.  The  splendor  of  the  forest  did  not  lessen 
as  we  turned  to  the  left  and  followed  up  Pigeon  Creek 
to  a  high  farming  region,  rough  but  fertile,  at  the 
base  of  Black  Mountain.  Such  a  wealth  of  oak,  beech, 
poplar,  chestnut,  and  ash,  and,  sprinkled  in,  the  j)retty 
cucumber-magnolia  in  bloom !  By  sunset  we  found 
our  way,  off  the  main  road,  to  a  lonely  farm-house 
hidden  away  at  the  foot  of  Morris  Pass,  secluded  be- 
hind an  orchard  of  apple  and  peach  trees.  A  stream 
of  spring-water  from  the  rocks  above  ran  to  the  house, 
and  to  the  eastward  the  ravine  broadened  into  past- 


i  ! 


k 


\ 


?4' 


M 


392 


South  and  Wed. 


iiros.  It  ficemcd  impossiblo  to  get  farther  from  the 
world  and  its  active  currents.  Wo  were  still  in  Vir- 
ginia. 

Our  host,  an  oUl  man  over  six  feet  in  height,  with 
Kparc,  8traight,  athletic  form,  a  fine  head,  and  largr 
<'K'ar  gray  eyes,  lived  liere  alone  with  his  aged  spousr. 
He  had  done  his  duty  hy  liis  country  in  raising  twelve 
<-)iildren  (that  is  the  eotnnion  and  oitixxlox  number  in 
this  region),  who  had  all  left  him  except  one  son,  m  li<> 
lived  in  a  shanty  up  the  ravine.  It  was  this  son's  wife 
who  helped  about  jthe  house  and  did  the  milking, 
taking  care  also  of  a  growing  family  of  her  own,  and 
doing  her  share  of  field-work,  I  had  heard  that  tlu' 
women  in  this  country  were  more  industrious  than  the 
men.  I  asked  this  woman,  as  she  was  milking  that 
evening,  if  the  women  did  all  the  work.  No,  she  said; 
only  their  share.  Her  husband  was  all  the  lime  in  the 
field,  and  even  her  boys,  one  only  eight,  had  to  work 
with  him  ;  there  was  no  time  to  go  to  school,  and  in- 
deed the  school  didn't  amount  to  much  anyway — only 
a  little  while  in  the  fall.  She  had  all  the  care  of  the 
coAvs.  "Men,"  she  added,  "never  notice  milking;" 
and  the  worst  of  it  was  that  she  had  to  go  miles 
around  in  the  bush  night  and  morning  to  find  them. 
After  supper  we  had  a  call  from  a  bachelor  who  oc- 
cupied a  cabin  over  the  pass,  on  the  Kentucky  side,  a 
loquacious  philosopher,  Avho  squatted  on  his  heels  in 
the  door-yard  where  we  were  sitting,  and  interro- 
gated each  of  us  in  turn  as  to  our  names,  occupations, 
residence,  ages,  and  politics,  and  then  gave  us  as  freely 
his  own  history  and  views  of  life.  Ilis  eccentricity  in 
this  mountain  region  was  that  he  had  voted  for  Cleve- 
land and  should  do  it  again.     Mr.  Morris  couldn't  go 


Kentnchj. 


303 


with  him  in  this;  and  whi-n  pivsscd  for  his  reasons  lu- 
said  that  C'U'veland  had  had  tho  salary  h)n;j^  cnout;!!, 
and  got  rich  enough  out  of  it.  'J'lu'  philosopher 
brought  tlio  news,  had  heard  it  talked  about  on  Sun- 
day, that  a  man  over  Clover  Fork  way  had  killed  his 
wife  and  brother.  It  was  claimed  to  be  an  accident; 
they  were  liaving  a  game  of  cards  and  some  whiskey, 
and  ho  was  trying  to  kill  his  son-in-law.  Was  there 
much  killing  round  here?  Well,  not  much  lately. 
Last  year  John  Cone,  over  on  Clover  Fork,  shot  Mat 
Harner  in  a  dispute  over  card^.  Well,  what  becauH' 
of  John  Cone?  Oh,  he  was  killed  by  Jim  lilood,  a 
friend  of  Harner.  And  what  became  of  IJlood  ? 
Well,  he  got  shot  by  Elias  Travers.  And  Travers  ? 
Oh,  he  was  killed  by  a  man  by  the  name  of  Jacobs. 
That  ended  it.  None  of  'em  was  of  much  account. 
There  M'as  a  pleasing  naivete  in  (his  narrative.  And 
then  the  philosopher,  whom  the  milkmaid  described  to 
mc  next  morning  as  "a  simlar  sort  of  man,"  went  on 
to  give  his  idea  about  this  killing  business.  "All  this 
killing  in  the  mountains  is  foolish.  If  you  kill  a  man, 
that  don't  aggravate  him;  he's  dead  and  don't  care, 
and  it  all  comes  on  you." 

In  the  early  morning  we  crossed  a  narrow  pass  in 
the  Black  Mountain  into  "Canetucky,"  and  followed 
down  the  Clover  Fork  of  the  Cinnbcrland.  All  these 
mountains  are  perfectly  tree-clad,  but  they  have  not 
the  sombrenes:;  of  the  high  regions  of  the  (1  reat  Smokv^ 
and  the  Black  Mountains  of  North  Carolina.  There 
are  few  black  balsams,  or  any  sort  of  evergreens,  and 
the  great  variety  of  deciduous  trees,  from  the  shining 
green  of  the  oak  to  the  bronze  hue  of  the  beech,  makes 
everywhere  soft  gradations  of  color  most  pleasing  to 


« 


t 


I 


r 

i 


f 

1. 

1 

f! 

II 

1 

u 

1 

1 

'  'i! 


394 


South  and  West. 


V.K  ( 


W:\ 


.it  ■ 


1. 1 


the  eye.  In  the  autumn,  they  say,  the  brilliant  maples 
in  combination  with  the  soberer  bronzes  and  yellowH 
of  the  other  forest-trees  give  an  ineffable  beauty  to 
these  ridges  and  graceful  slopes.  The  ride  down 
Clover  Fork,  all  day  long,  was  for  the  most  pari 
through  a  virgin  world.  The  winding  valley  is  at  all 
times  narrow,  with  here  and  there  a  tiny  meadow,  and 
at  long  intervals  a  lateral  opening  down  which  another 
sparkling  brook  comes  from  the  recesses  of  this  wil- 
derness of  mountains.  Houses  are  miles  apart,  and 
usually  nothing  but  cabins  half  concealed  in  sonic 
sheltered  nook.  There  is,  however,  hidden  on  tlu' 
small  streams,  on  mountain  terraces,  and  high  up  on 
the  slopes,  a  considerable  population,  cabin  dwellers, 
cultivators  of  corn,  on  the  almost  perpendicular  hills. 
Many  of  these  cornfields  are  so  steep  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  plough  them,  and  all  the  cultivation  is  done 
with  the  hoe.  I  heard  that  a  man  was  recently  killed 
in  this  neighborhood  by  falling  out  of  his  cornfield. 
The  storv  has  as  much  foundation  as  the  current  belief 
that  the  only  way  to  keep  a  mule  in  the  field  where 
you  wish  him  to  stay  is  to  put  him  into  the  adjoining 
lot.  But  it  is  true  that  no  one  would  believe  that 
crops  could  be  raised  on  such  nearly  perpendicular 
slopes  as  these  unless  he  had  seen  the  planted  fields. 

In  my  limited  experience  I  can  recall  no  day's  ride 
equal  in  simple  natural  beauty — not  magnificence  — 
and  splendor  of  color  to  that  down  Clover  Fork. 
There  was  scarcely  a  moment  of  the  day  when  the 
scene  did  not  call  forth  from  us  exclamations  of  sur- 
prise and  delight.  The  road  follows  and  often  crosses 
the  swift,  clear,  rooky  stream.  The  variegated  forest 
rises  on  either  hand,  but  all  along  the  banks  vast  trees 


Kentucky. 


395 


without  underbrush  dot  the  little  intervales.  Now 
and  then,  in  a  level  reach,  where  the  road  wound 
through  these  monarch  stems,  and  the  water  spread  in 
silver  pools,  the  perspective  was  entrancing.  But  the 
color !  For  always  there  were  the  rhododendrons, 
either  gleaming  in  masses  of  white  and  pink  in  the 
recesses  of  the  forest,  or  forming  for  us  an  allee,  close 
set,  and  uninterrupted  for  miles  and  miles  ;  shrubs 
like  trees,  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high,  solid  bou- 
quets of  blossoms,  more  abundant  than  any  cultivated 
parterre,  nore  brilliant  than  the  finest  display  in  a 
horticultural  exhibition.  There  is  an  avenue  of  rho- 
dodendrons half  a  mile  long  at  Hampton  ("ourt,  which 
is  world-wide  famous.  It  needs  a  day  to  ride  through 
the  rhododendron  avenue  on  Clover  Fork,  and  the 
wild  and  free  beauty  of  it  transcends  all  creations  of 
the  gardener. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  region  are  primitive  and  to 
a  considerable  extent  illiterate.  But  still  many  strong 
and  distinguished  men  have  ccme  from  these  mount- 
ain towns.  Many  families  send  theii  children  away 
to  school,  and  there  are  fair  schools  at  Barbersville, 
Harlan  Court-house,  and  in  other  places.  Long  iso- 
lated from  the  moving  world,  they  have  retained  the 
habits  of  the  early  settlers,  and  to  some  extent  the 
vernacular  speech,  though  the  dialect  is  not  specially 
marked.  They  have  been  until  recently  a  self-sustain- 
ing people,  raising  and  manufacturing  nearly  every- 
thing required  by  their  limited  knowledge  and  Avants. 
Not  long  ago  the  women  spun  and  wove  from  cotton 
and  hemp  and  wool  the  household  linen,  the  bed- 
wear,  and  the  clothes  of  the  family.  In  many  houses 
the  loom  is  still  at  work.    The  colors  used  for  dyeing 


Vi     i 


r 


1 1 


t  h 


396 


South  and  West. 


were  formerly  all  of  home  make  except,  perhaps,  the 
indigo;  now  they  use  what  they  call  the  "  brought  in  " 
dyes,  bought  at  the  stores ;  and  prints  and  other 
fabrics  are  largely  taking  the  places  of  the  home-made. 
During  the  morning  we  stopped  at  one  of  the  best 
houses  on  the  fork,  a  house  with  a  small  apple-orchard 
in  front,  having  a  veranda,  two  large  rooms,  and  a 
porch  and  kitchen  at  the  back.  In  the  back  porch 
stood  the  loom  with  its  web  of  half-finished  cloth. 
The  farmer  was  of  the  age  when  men  sun  themselves 
on  the  gallery  and  talk.  Ilis  wife,  an  intelligent, 
barefooted  old  woman,  was  still  engaged  in  household 
duties,  but  her  weaving  days  were  over.  Iler  daugh- 
ters did  the  Aveaving,  and  in  one  of  the  rooms  were 
the  linsey-woolsey  dresses  hung  up,  and  piles  of  gor- 
geous bed  coverlets,  enough  to  set  up  half  a  dozen 
families.  These  are  the  treasures  and  heirlooms  hand- 
ed down  from  mother  to  daughter,  for  these  hand- 
made fabrics  never  wear  out.  Only  eight  of  the 
twelve  children  were  at  home.  The  youngest,  the 
baby,  a  sickly  boy  of  twelve,  was  lounging  about  the 
house,  lie  could  read  a  little,  for  he  had  been  to 
school  a  few  weeks.  Reading  and  writing  were  not 
accomplishments  in  the  family  generally.  The  other 
girls  and  boys  were  in  the  cornfield,  and  going  to  the 
back  door,  I  saw  a  line  of  them  hoeing  at  the  top  of 
the  field.  The  field  was  literally  so  steep  that  they 
might  have  rolled  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  Tlu' 
mother  called  them  in,  and  they  lounged  leisurely  do\vii. 
the  girls  swinging  themselves  over  the  garden  fence 
with  athletic  ease.  The  four  eldest  were  p^irls  :  one,  a 
woman  of  thirty-five,  had  lost  her  beauty,  if  she  ever  had 
any,  with  her  teeth;  one,  of  thirty,  recently  married. 


Kentucky. 


39'i 


had  a  stately  dignity  and  a  certain  nobility  of  figure ; 
one,  of  sixteen,  was  undeniably  pretty — almost  the 
only  woman  entitled  to  this  epithbt  that  we  saw  in  the 
whole  journey.  This  household  must  have  been  an 
exception,  for  the  girls  usually  marry  very  young. 
They  Avere  all,  of  course,  barefooted.  They  were 
all  laborers,  and  evidently  took  life  seriously,  and 
however  much  their  knowledge  of  the  world  was 
limited,  the  household  evidently  respected  itself.  Tiie 
elder  girls  were  the  weavers,  and  they  showed  a  taste 
and  skill  in  their  fabrics  that  would  be  praised  in  the 
Orient  or  in  Mexico.  The  designs  and  colors  of  the 
coverlets  were  ingenious  and  striking.  There  was  a 
very  handsome  one  in  crimson,  done  in  wavy  lines  and 
bizarre  figures,  that  was  called  the  Kentucky  Beauty, 
or  the  Ocean  Wave,  that  had  a  most  brilliant  effect. 
A  simple,  hospitable  family  this.  The  traveller  may 
go  all  through  this  region  with  the  certainty  of  kindly 
treatment,  and  in  perfect  security — if,  I  suppose,  he 
is  not  a  revenue  officer,  or  sent  in  to  survey  land  on 
which  the  inhabitants  have  squatted. 

Wo  came  at  night  to  Harlan  Court-house,  an  old 
shabby  hamlet,  but  growing  and  imj)roving,  having  a 
new  court-house  and  other  signs  of  the  awakening  of 
the  people  to  the  wealth  here  in  timber  and  mines. 
Here  in  a  beautiful  valley  three  streams — Poor,  ISfar- 
tin,  and  Clover  forks — unite  to  form  the  Cumberland. 
The  place  has  fourteen  "  stores  "  and  three  taverns, 
the  latter  a  trial  to  the  traveller.  Harlan  has  been 
one  of  the  counties  most  conspicuous  for  lawlessness. 
The  trouble  is  not  simply  individual  wickedness,  but 
the  want  of  courage  of  public  opinion,  coupled  with  a 
general  disrespect  for  authority.      Plenty  of  people 


1 

1 


{   i 


\  i   1 


*.iA,] 


398 


South  and  West. 


kS 


1;.i  ( 


f„ ' 


:t: 


''.... 


lament  the  state  of  things,  but  want  the  courage  to 
take  a  public  stand.  The  clay  before  we  reached  the 
Court-house  the  man  who  killed  his  wife  and  his  brother 
had  his  examination.  His  friends  were  able  to  take 
the  case  before  a  friendly  justice  instead  of  the  judge. 
The  facts  sworn  to  were  that  in  a  drunken  dispute 
over  cards  he  tried  to  kill  his  son-in-law,  Avho  escaped 
out  of  the  window,  and  that  his  wife  and  brother  op- 
posed him,  and  he  killed  them  with  his  pistol.  There- 
fore their  deaths  were  accidental,  and  he  was  dis- 
charged. Many  people  said  privately  that  he  ought 
to  be  hanged,  but  there  was  entire  public  apathy  over 
the  affair.  If  Harlan  had  three  or  four  resolute  men 
who  would  take  a  public  stand  that  this  lawlessness 
must  cease,  they  could  carry  the  community  with 
them.  But  the  difficulty  of  enforcing  law  and  order 
in  some  of  these  mountain  counties  is  to  find  proper 
judges,  prosecuting  officers,  and  sheriffs.  The  officers 
are  as  likely  as  not  to  be  the  worst  men  in  the  com- 
munity, and  if  they  are  not,  they  are  likely  to  use 
their  authority  for  satisfying  their  private  grudges 
and  revenges.  Consequently  men  take  the  "  law " 
into  their  OAvn  hands.  The  most  personally  courageous 
become  bullies  and  the  terror  of  the  community.  Tiie 
worst  citizens  are  not  those  who  have  killcvT  most 
men,  in  the  opinion  of  the  public.  It  ought  to  be  said 
that  in  some  of  the  mountain  counties  there  has  been 
very  little  lawlessness,  and  in  some  it  has  been  repress- 
ed by  the  local  authorities,  and  there  is  great  improve- 
ment on  the  whole.  I  was  sorry  not  to  meet  a  well- 
known  character  in  the  mountains,  who  has  killed 
twenty-one  men.  He  is  a  very  agreeable  "  square  " 
man,  and  I  believe  "high-toned,"  and  it  is  the  uni- 


'  ■^■■^f' 


Kentucky. 


399 


versal  testimony  that  he  never  killed  a  man  who  did 
not  deserve  killing,  and  whose  death  was  a  benefit  to 
the  community.  He  is  called,  in  the  language  of  the 
country,  a  "  severe  "  man.  In  a  little  company  that 
assembled  at  the  Harlan  tavern  were  two  elderly  men, 
who  appeared  to  be  on  friendly  terms  enough.  Their 
sons  had  had  a  difficulty,  and  two  boys  out  of  each  fam- 
ily had  been  killed  not  very  long  ago.  The  fathers 
were  not  involved  in  the  vendetta.  About  the  old  Har- 
lan court-house  a  great  many  men  have  been  killed 
during  court  M'cek  in  the  past  few  years.  The  habit  of 
carrying  pisiols  and  knives,  and  whiskey,  are  the  im- 
mediate causes  of  these  deaths,  but  back  of  these  is 
the  want  of  respect  for  law.  At  the  ford  of  the  Cum- 
berland at  Pineville  was  anchored  a  little  house-boat, 
Avhich  was  nothing  but  a  whiskey-shop.  During  our 
absence  a  tragedy  occurred  there.  The  sheriff  with  a 
posse  went  out  to  Jirrest  some  criminals  in  the  mount- 
ain near.  He  secured  his  men,  and  was  bringing 
them  into  Pineville,  when  it  occurred  to  him  that  it 
would  be  a  good  plan  to  take  a  drink  at  the  house- 
boat. The  whole  party  got  into  a  quarrel  over  their 
liquor,  and  in  it  the  sheriff  was  killed  and  a  couple  of 
men  seriously  wounded.  A  resolute  surveyor,  former- 
ly a  general  in  our  army,  surveying  land  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Pineville,  under  a  decree  of  the  United 
States  Court,  has  for  years  carried  on  his  work  at  the 
personal  peril  of  himself  and  his  party.  The  squatters 
not  only  pull  up  his  stakes  and  destroy  his  work  day 
after  day,  but  it  was  reported  that  they  had  shot  at 
his  corps  from  the  bushes.  He  can  only  go  on  with 
his  work  by  employing  a  large  guard  of  armed  men. 
This  state  of  things  in  eastern  Kentucky  will  not 


t 


\ 


. 


ii 


,;    il 


; 


<> 


in 


'\ 


ih 


?* 


.  ■..'  i 


1^     M    'w 


i  m\ 


.  \  V   f  I..  , 


I  !:•■ 


400 


South  and  West. 


be  radically  changed  until  the  railways  enter  it,  and 
business  and  enterprise  bring  in  law  and  order.  The 
State  Government  cannot  find  native  material  for  en- 
forcing law,  though  there  has  been  improvement  with- 
in the  past  two  years.  I  think  no  pennanent  gain  can 
be  expected  till  a  new  civilization  comes  in,  thougli 
I  heard  of  a  bad  community  in  one  of  the  counties 
that  had  been  quite  subdued  and  changed  by  the 
labors  of  a  devout  and  plain-spoken  evangelist.  So 
far  as  our  party  was  concerned,  we  received  nothing 
but  kind  treatment,  and  saw  little  evidences  of  de- 
moralization, except  that  the  young  men  usually  were 
growing  up  to  be  "  roughs,"  and  liked  to  lounge  about 
with  shot-guns  rather  than  work.  But  the  report  of 
men  who  have  known  the  country  for  j'cars  was  very 
unfavorable  as  to  the  general  character  of  the  people 
who  live  on  the  mountains  and  in  the  little  valleys — 
that  they  Avere  all  ignorant;  that  the  men  generally 
were  idle,  vicious,  and  cowardly,  and  threw  most  of 
the  hard  labor  in  the  field  and  house  upon  the  wom- 
en; that  the  killings  are  mostly  done  from  ambush, 
and  with  no  show  for  a  fair  fight.  This  is  a  tremen- 
dous indictment,  and  it  is  too  sweeping  to  be  sustain- 
ed. The  testimony  of  the  gentlemen  of  our  party, 
who  thoroughly  know  this  part  of  the  State,  contra- 
dicted it.  The  fact  is  there  are  two  sorts  of  people 
in  the  mountains,  as  elsewhere. 

The  race  of  American  mountaineers  occupying  the 
country  from  western  North  Carolina  to  eastern  Ken- 
tucky is  a  curious  study.  Their  origin  is  in  doubt. 
They  have  developed  their  peculiarities  in  isolation. 
In  this  freedom  stalwart  and  able  men  have  been 
from  time  to  time  developed,  but  ignorance  and  free- 


Kentucky. 


401 


dom  from  the  restraints  of  laAV  have  had  tlicir  logical 
result  as  to  the  mass.  I  am  told  that  this  lawlessness 
has  only  existed  since  the  war;  that  before,  the  peoj)k', 
though  ignorant  of  letters,  were  peaceful.  They  had 
the  good  i^oints  of  a  simple  people,  and  if  they  were 
not  literate,  they  had  abundant  knowledge  of  their 
own  region.  During  the  war  the  mountaineers  were 
carrying  on  a  civil  war  at  home.  The  opposing  parties 
were  not  soldiers,  but  bushwhackers.  Some  of  the 
best  citizens  were  run  out  of  the  country,  and  never 
returned.  The  majority  were  Unionists,  and  in  all 
the  mountain  region  of  eastern  Kentucky  I  passed 
through  there  are  few  to-day  who  are  politically  Dem- 
ocrats. In  the  war,  home -guards  were  organi/etl, 
and  these  were  little  better  than  vigilance  committees 
for  private  revenge.  Disorder  began  with  this  private 
and  partly  patriotic  warfare.  After  the  war,  when  the 
bushwhackers  got  back  to  their  cabins,  the  animos- 
ities were  kept  up,  though  I  fancy  that  politics  has 
little  or  nothing  to  do  with  them  noAv.  The  habit  of 
reckless  shooting,  of  taking  justice  into  private  hands, 
is  no  doubt  a  relic  of  the  disorganization  during  the 
war. 

Worthless,  good-for-nothing,  irreclaimable,  were 
words  I  often  heard  applied  to  people  of  this  and 
that  region.  I  am  not  so  despondent  of  their  future. 
Railways,  trade,  the  sight  of  enterprise  and  industry, 
will  do  much  with  this  material.  Schools  will  do 
more,  though  it  seems  impossible  to  have  efficient 
schools  there  at  present.  The  people  in  their  igno- 
rance and  their  undeveloped  country  have  a  hard 
struggle  for  life.  This  region  is,  according  to  the 
census,  the  most  prolific  in  the  United  States.  The 
26 


t!l 


402 


South  and  West. 


\\  ■ 


girls  many  young,  bear  many  children,  work  like 
galley-slaves,  and  at  the  time  when  women  should  be 
at  their  best  they  fade,  lose  their  teeth,  become  ugly, 
and  look  old.  One  great  cause  of  this  is  their  lack  of 
proper  nourishment.  There  is  nothing  unhealthy  in 
out-door  work  in  moderation  if  the  body  is  proper- 
ly sustained  by  good  food.  But  healthy,  handsome 
women  are  not  possible  without  good  fare.  In  a  con- 
siderable part  of  eastern  Kentucky  (not  I  hear  in 
all)  good  wholesome  cooking  is  unknown,  and  civiliza- 
tion is  not  possible  without  that.  We  passed  a  cabin 
where  a  man  was  very  ill  with  dysentery.  No  doctor 
could  be  obtained,  and  perhaps  that,  considering  what 
the  doctor  might  have  been,  was  not  a  misfortune. 
But  he  had  no  food  fit  for  a  sick  man,  and  the  women 
of  the  house  were  utterly  ignorant  of  the  diet  suitable 
to  a  man  in  his  state.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  abom- 
inable cookery  of  the  region  has  much  to  do  with  the 
lawlessness,  as  it  visibly  has  to  do  with  the  poor 
physical  condition. 

The  road  down  the  Cumberland,  in  a  valley  at  times 
spreading  out  into  fertile  meadows,  is  nearly  all  the 
way  through  magnificent  forests,  along  hill-sides  fit 
for  the  vine,  for  fruit,  and  for  pasture,  while  frequent 
outcroppings  of  coal  testify  to  the  abundance  of  the 
fuel  that  has  been  so  long  stored  for  the  new  civiliza- 
tion. Tliese  mountains  would  be  profitable  as  sheeji 
pastures  did  not  the  inhabitants  here,  as  elsewhere  in 
the  United  States,  prefer  to  keep  dogs  rather  than 
sheep. 

I  have  thus  sketched  hastily  some  of  the  capacities 
of  the  Cumberland  region.  It  is  my  belief  that  this 
central  and  hitherto  neglected  portion  of  the  United 


I        .  1 ' 


Kentucky. 


403 


States  ■will  soon  become  the  theatre  of  vast  and  con- 
trolling industries. 

I  want  space  for  more  than  a  concluding  word 
about  western  Kentucky,  which  deserves,  both  for  its 
capacity  and  its  recent  imi)rovements,  a  chapter  to 
itself.  There  is  a  limestone  area  of  some  10,000 
square  miles,  with  a  soil  hardly  less  fertile  than  that 
of  the  blue-grass  region,  a  high  agricultural  develop- 
ment, and  a  population  equal  in  all  respects  to  that  of 
the  famous  and  historic  grass  country.  Seven  of  the 
ten  principal  tobacco-producing  counties  in  Kentucky 
and  the  largest  Indian  corn  and  wheat  raising  counties 
are  in  this  part  of  the  State.  The  western  coal-field 
has  both  river  and  rail  transportation,  thick  deposits 
of  iron  ore,  and  more  level  and  richer  farming  lands 
than  the  eastern  coal-field.  Indeed,  the  agricultural 
development  in  this  western  coal  region  has  attracted 
great  attention. 

Much  also  might  be  written  of  the  remarkable  prog- 
ress of  the  towns  of  western  Kentuckv  within  the 
past  few  years.  The  increase  in  population  is  not 
more  astonishing  than  the  development  of  various 
industries.  They  show  a  vigorous,  modern  activity 
for  which  this  part  of  the  State  has  not,  so  far  as  I 
know,  been  generally  credited.  The  traveller  Avill 
find  abundant  evidence  of  it  in  Owensborougli,  Hen- 
derson, llopkinsville.  Bowling  Green,  and  other  places. 
As  an  illustration:  Paducah,  while  doubling  its  popu- 
lation since  1880,  has  increased  its  manufacturing  150 
per  cent.  The  town  had  in  1880  twenty-six  factories, 
with  a  capital  of  8600,000,  employing  950  men;  now 
it  has  fifty  factories,  with  a  cash  capital  of  82,000,000, 
employing   3250  men,  engaged   in    a  variety  of   in- 


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(lustrics — to  which  a  large  iron  furnace  is  now  beinfj 
jiddeJ.  Taking  it  all  together — variety  of  resources, 
excellence  of  climate,  vigor  of  its  people — one  cannot 
escape  the  impression  that  Kentucky  Las  a  great 
future. 


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COMMENTS  ON  CANADA. 


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The  area  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada  is  larger  than 
that  of  tho  United  States,  exehiding  Alaska.  It  is 
fair,  however,  in  the  comparison,  to  add  Alaska,  for 
Canada  has  in  its  domain  enouLjh  arctic  and  |>racti- 
cally  uninhabitable  land  to  olfset  Alaska.  Kxclud- 
ing  the  boundary  great  lakes  and  rivers,  Canada  has 
3,47(),257  square  miU's  of  territory,  or  more  than  one- 
third  of  the  entire  Jiritish  Empire;  the  United  States 
has  ;}, 02(3, 494  square  miles,  or,  addinjjj  Alaska  (577,300), 
3,003,884  square  miles.  From  the  eastern  limit  of  the 
maritime  provinces  to  Vancouver  Island  the  distance 
is  over  three  thousand  live  hundred  miles.  This 
wliole  distance  is  settled,  but  a  considerable  portion 
of  it  only  by  a  thin  skirmish  line.  I  have  seen  a  map, 
colored  according  to  the  maker's  idea  of  fertilitv,  on 
which  (^anada  appears  little  more  than  a  green  Hush 
along  the  northern  boundary  of  tho  United  States. 
With  a  territory  ecjual  to  our  own,  Canada  has  tho 
population  of  the  single  State  of  New  York — about 
live  millions. 

Most  of  Canada  lies  north  of  the  limit  of  what  was 
reckoned  aijreeablv  habitable  before  it  was  discovered 
that  climate  depends  largely  on  altitude,  and  that  the 
isothermal  lines  and  the  lines  of  latitude  do  not  coin- 
cide. The  division  between  the  two  countries  is,  how- 
ever, mainly  a  natural  one,  on  a  divide  sloping  one 
way  to  the  arctic  regions,  the  other  Avay  to  the  tropics. 
It  would  seem  better  map-making  to  us  if  our  line  fol- 


N 


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408 


Comments  on  Canada. 


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lowed  the  northern  mountanis  of  Maine  and  inchided 
New  ]3runswick  and  the  other  maritime  provinces. 
But  it  would  seem  a  better  rectification  to  Canadians 
if  their  line  included  Maine  with  the  harbor  of  Port- 
land, and  dipjjcd  down  in  the  North-west  so  as  to  take 
in  the  lied  River  of  the  North,  and  all  the  waters 
discharging  into  Hudson's  Bay. 

The  great  bulk  of  Canada  is  on  the  arctic  slope. 
When  we  pass  the  highlands  of  New  Hampshire,  Ver- 
mont, and  New  York  we  fall  away  into  a  wide  cham- 
j)aign  country.  The  only  break  in  this  is  the  Lauren- 
tian  granite  mountains,  north  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
the  oldest  land  above  water,  now  degraded  into  hills 
of  from  1500  to  2000  feet  in  height.  The  central 
mass  of  Canada  consists  of  three  great  basins  :  that 
portion  of  the  St.  Lawrence  in  the  Dominion,  400,000 
square  miles;  the  Hudson's  Bay,  2,000,000  scpian- 
miles;  the  Mackenzie,  550,000  square  miles.  That  is 
to  say,  of  the  3,470,257  square  miles  of  the  area  of 
Canada,  3,010,000  have  a  northern  slope. 

This  decrease  in  altitude  from  our  northern  boun- 
dary makes  Canada  a  possible  nation.  The  Rocky 
Mountains  fall  away  north  into  the  Mackenzie  plain. 
The  highest  altitude  attained  by  the  L'^nion  Paciiic 
Railroad  is  8240  feet;  the  highest  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  is  5290;  and  a  line  of  railwav  still  fartluT 
north,  from  the  North  Saskatchewan  region,  can,  and 
doubtless  some  time  will,  reach  the  Pacific  without 
any  obstruction  by  the  Rockies  and  the  Selkirks.  In 
estimating,  therefore,  the  capacity  of  Canada  for  sus- 
taining a  large  population  we  have  to  remember  that 
the  greater  portion  of  it  is  but  little  above  the  sea-level ; 
that  the  climate  of  the  interior  is  modified  by  vast 


Comments  on  Canada. 


409 


bodies  of  water ;  that  the  maximum  summer  heat  of 
Montreal  and  Quebec  exceeds  that  of  New  York;  and 
that  there  is  a  vast  reofion  east  of  the  Rockies  and 

en 

north  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  not  only  the 
plains  drained  by  the  two  branches  of  the  Saskatche- 
wan, but  those  drained  by  the  Peace  River  still  farther 
north,  which  have  a  fair  share  of  summer  weather,  and 
winters  much  milder  than  are  enjoyed  in  our  Terri- 
tories farther  south  but  higher  in  altitude.  The  sum- 
mers of  this  vast  region  are  by  all  reports  most 
agreeable,  warm  days  and  refreshing  nights,  with  a 
stimulating  atmosphere;  winters  with  little  snow,  and 
usually  bright  and  pleasant,  occasional  falls  of  the 
thermometer  for  two  or  three  days  to  arctic  tempera- 
ture, but  as  certain  a  recovery  to  mildness  by  the 
"Chinook  "  or  Pacific  winds.  It  is  estimated  that  the 
plains  of  the  Saskatchewan — 500,000  square  miles — arc 
capable  of  sustaining  a  population  of  thirty  millions. 
But  nature  there  must  call  forth  a  good  deal  of  human 
energy  and  endurance.  There  is  no  doubt  that  frosts 
are  liable  to  come  very  late  in  the  spring  ?nd  very 
early  in  the  autumn;  that  persistent  winds  are  hostile 
to  the  growth  of  trees ;  and  that  varieties  of  hardy 
cereals  and  fruits  must  be  selected  for  success  in  ag- 
riculture and  horticulture.  The  winters  are  exceed- 
ingly severe  on  all  the  prairies  east  of  Winnipeg,  and 
westward  on  the  Canadian  l*aciHc  as  far  as  Medicine 
Hat,  the  crossing  of  the  South  Saskatchewan.  Heavy 
items  in  the  cost  of  living  there  must  always  be  fuel, 
warm  clothing,  and  solid  houses.  Fortunately  the 
region  has  an  abundance  of  lignite  and  extensive  fields 
of  easily  workable  coal. 

Canada  is  really  two  countries,  separated  from  each 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


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other  by  the  vast  rocky  wilderness  between  the  lakes 
and  James  Bay.  For  a  thousand  miles  west  of  Ot- 
tawa, till  the  Manitob  ^irie  is  reached,  the  traveller 
on  the  line  of  the  rail  /  sees  little  but  granite  rock 
and  stunted  balsams,  larches,  and  poplars — a  dreary 
region,  impossible  to  attract  settlors.  Copper  and 
other  minerals  there  are;  and  in  the  region  north  of 
Lake  Superior  there  is  no  doubt  timber,  and  arable 
land  is  spoken  of  ;  but  the  country  is  really  unknown. 
Portions  of  this  land,  like  that  about  Lake  Nipigon, 
oifer  attractions  to  sportsmen.  Lake  navigation  is 
impracticable  about  four  months  in  the  year,  so  that 
Canada  seems  to  depend  for  political  and  commercial 
unity  upon  a  telegraph  wire  and  two  steel  rails  run- 
ning a  thousand  miles  through  a  region  where  local 
trafhc  is  at  present  insignificant. 

The  present  government  of  Canada  is  an  evolution 
on  British  lines,  modified  by  the  example  of  the  re- 
public of  the  United  States.  In  form  the  resemblances 
are  striking  to  the  United  States,  but  underneath,  the 
differences  are  radical.  There  is  a  supreme  federal 
government,  comprehending  a  union  of  provinces, 
each  having  its  local  government.  ]iut  the  union  in 
the  two  countries  was  brouifht  about  in  a  different 
way,  and  the  restrictive  powers  have  a  different  origin. 
In  the  one,  power  descends  from  the  Crown;  in  the 
other,  it  originates  with  the  people.  In  the  Dominion 
Government  all  the  powers  not  delegated  to  the 
provinces  are  held  by  the  Federal  Government.  In 
the  L^nited  States,  all  the  powers  not  delegated  to  the 
Federal  Government  by  the  States  are  held  by  the 
States.  In  the  L^nited  States,  delegates  from  the  colo- 
nies, specially  elected  for  the  purpose,  met  to  put  in 


Comments  on  Canada. 


411 


shape  a  union  already  a  necessity  of  the  internal  and 
external  situation.     And  the  union  expressed  in  the 
Constitution  was  accepted  by  the  popular  vote  in  each 
State.     In  the  provinces  of  Canada  there  was  a  long 
and  successful  struggle  for  responsible  government. 
The  first  union  was  of  the  two  Canadas,  in  1840;  that 
is,  of  the  provinces  of  Upper  and  Lower  Canada — 
Ontario  and  Quebec — with  Parliaments  sitting  some- 
times in  Quebec  and  sometimes  in  Toronto,  and  at 
last  in  Ottawa,  a  site  selected  by  the  Queen.     This 
Government  was  carried  on  with  increasing  friction. 
There   is   not   space   here   to  sketch   the  politics  of 
this  epoch.     Many  causes  contributed  to  this  friction, 
I)ut  the  leading  ones  were  the  antagonism  of  French 
and  English  ideas,  the  superior   advance   in  wealth 
and   population   of    Ontario    over    Quebec,   and   the 
resistance  of   what   was    called   French   domination. 
At  length,  in   1863-64,  the  two  parties,  the  Conser- 
vatives and  the  Liberals  (or,  in  the  political  nomen- 
clature of  the  day,  the  "  Tories  "  and  the  "  Grits  " 
— i.  €.,  those  of  "clear  grit"),  were  so  evenly  divid- 
ed that   a  dead-lock  occurred,  neither  was  able    to 
carry  on  the   government,  and  a    coalition  ministry 
was  formed.     Then  the  subject  of  colonial  confedera- 
tion was  actively  agitated.     Kova  Scotia  and  New 
Brunswick  contemplated  a  legislative  union  of  the 
maritime  provinces,  and  a  conference  was  called  at 
Charlottetown,  Prince  Edward  Island,  in  the  summer 
of  18G4.     Having  in  view  a  more  comprehensive  un- 
ion, the  Canadian  Government  sought  and  obtained 
admission  to  this  conference,  which  was  soon  swal- 
lowed up  in  a  larger  scheme,  and  a  conference  of  all 
the  colonies  was  appointed  to  be  held  at  Quebec  in 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


October.  Delegates,  thirty-three  in  number,  were 
present  from  all  the  provinces,  probably  sent  by  the 
respective  legislatures  or  governments,  for  I  find  no 
note  of  a  popular  election.  The  result  of  this  confer- 
ence was  the  adoption  of  resolutions  as  a  basis  of  an 
act  of  confederation.  The  Canadian  Parliament  adopt- 
ed this  scheme  after  a  protracted  debate.  But  the 
maritime  provinces  stood  out.  Meantime  the  Civil 
War  in  the  United  States,  the  Fenian  invasion,  and  the 
abrogation  of  the  reciprocity  treaty  fostered  a  spirit 
of  Canadian  nationality,  and  discouraged  whatever 
feeling  existed  for  annexation  to  the  United  States. 
The  colonies,  therefore,  with  more  or  less  willingness, 
came  into  the  plan,  and  in  1867  the  English  Parlia- 
ment passed  the  British  North  American  Act,  which 
is  the  charter  of  the  Dominion.  It  established  the 
union  of  the  provinces  of  Canada,  Nova  Scotia,  and 
New  Brunswick,  and  provided  for  the  admission  to 
the  union  of  the  other  parts  of  British  North  America; 
that  is,  Prince  Edward  Island,  the  Hudson  Bay  Terri- 
tory, British  Columbia,  and  Newfoundland,  with  its 
dependency  Labrador.  Nova  Scotia  was,  however, 
still  dissatisfied  with  the  terms  of  the  union,  and  was 
only  reconciled  on  the  granting  of  additional  annual 
subsidies. 

In  1868,  by  Act  of  the  British  Parliament,  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company  surrendered  to  the  Crown  its  ter- 
ritorial rigiits  over  the  vast  region  it  controlled,  in 
consideration  of  £300,000  sterling,  grants  of  land 
around  its  trading  posts  to  the  extent  of  fifty  thou- 
sand acres  in  all,  and  one-twentieth  of  all  the  fertile 
land  south  of  the  north  branch  of  the  Saskatchewan, 
retaining  its  privileges  of  trade,  without  its  exclusive 


Comments  on  Canada. 


413 


monopoly.  The  attempt  of  the  Dominion  Government 
to  take  possession  of  this  north-west  territory  (Mani- 
toba was  created  a  province  July  15,  1870)  was  met 
by  the  rising  of  the  squatters  and  half-breeds  under 
Louis  Riel  in  1809-70.  Kiel  formed  a  provisional 
government,  and  proceeded  with  a  high  hand  to  ban- 
ish persons  and  confiscate  property,  and  on  a  drum- 
liead  court-martial  put  to  death  Thomas  Scott,  a  Cana- 
dian militia  officer.  The  murder  of  Scott  provoked 
intense  excitement  throughout  Canada,  especially  in 
Ontario.  Colonel  Garnet  Wolseley's  exj)edition  to 
Fort  Garry  (now  Winnipeg)  followed,  and  the  Gov- 
ernment authority  was  restored.  Riel  and  his  squat- 
ter confederates  fled,  and  he  was  subsequently  par- 
doned. 

In  1871  British  Columbia  was  admitted  into  the 
Dominion.  In  1873  Prince  Edward  Island  came  in. 
The  original  Act  for  establishing  the  jjrovince  of 
Manitoba  provided  for  a  Lieutenant-governor,  a  Leg- 
islative Council,  and  an  elected  Legislative  Assembly. 
In  187G  Manitoba  abolished  the  Council,  and  the  gov- 
ernment took  its  present  form  of  a  Lieutenant-gov- 
ernor and  one  Assembly.  By  su'jsequent  legislation 
of  the  Dominion  the  district  of  Keewatin  was  created 
out  of  the  eastern  portion  of  the  north-west  territory, 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Lieutenant-governor  of 
Manitoba,  ex  officio.  Tlie  Territories  of  Assiniboin, 
Alberta,  and  Saskatchewan  have  been  organized  into 
a  Territory  called  the  North-west  Territory,  with  a 
Lieutenant-governor  and  Council,  and  a  represent- 
ative in  Parliament,  the  capital  being  Regina.  Out- 
side of  this  Territory,  to  the  northward,  lies  Athabas- 
ca, of  which  the  Lieutenant-governor  at  Regina  is  ex 


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414 


Comments  on  Canada. 


officio  ruler.  Newfoundland  still  remains  independent, 
although  negotiations  for  union  were  revived  in  1888. 
Some  years  ago  overtures  were  made  for  taking  in 
Jamaica  to  the  union,  and  a  delegation  from  that 
island  visited  Ottawa ;  but  nothing  came  of  the  pro- 
posal. Tt  was  said  that  the  Jamaica  delegates  thought 
the  Dominion  debt  too  large. 

The  Dominion  of  Canada,  therefore,  has  a  central 
-/ovornment  at  Ottawa,  and  is  composed  of  the  prov- 
ir  u.<3  cf  Nova  Scotia  (including  Cape  Breton),  New 
Bi'iiiswick,  Prince  Edward  Island,  Quebec,  Ontario, 
ManiLv.'  Tritish  Columbia,  and  the  North-west  Tir- 
ri    fy 

It  hn  i  be.  ;  n:^cessary  to  speak  in  this  brief  detail 
of  the  manner  of  the  formation  of  the  union  in 
order  to  understand  the  politics  of  Canada.  For 
there  are  radicals  in  the  Liberal  party  who  still  re- 
gard the  union  as  forced  and  artificial,  and  say  that 
the  provinces  outside  of  Ontario  and  Quebec  were 
brought  in  only  by  the  promise  of  local  railways  and 
the  payment  of  large  subsidies.  And  this  idea  more 
or  less  influences  the  opposition  to  the  "  strong  gov- 
ernment "  at  Ottawa.  I  do  not  say  that  the  Liberals 
oppose  the  formation  of  a  "nation";  but  they  arc 
critics  of  its  methods,  and  array  themselves  for  pro- 
vincial rights  as  against  federal  consolidation. 

The  Federal  Government  consists  of  the  Queen,  tlic 
Senate,  and  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Queen  is 
represented  by  the  Governor-general,  who  is  paid  by 
Canada  a  salary  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  He 
has  his  personal  staff,  and  is  aided  and  advised  by 
a  council,  called  the  Queen's  Privy  Council  of  Can- 
ada, thirteen  members,  constituting  the  ministry,  who 


|!   rt 


Comments  on  Canada. 


415 


must  be  sustained  by  a  Parliamentary  majority.  The 
English  model  is  exactly  followed.  The  Governor 
has  nominally  the  power  of  veto,  but  his  use  of  it 
is  as  much  in  abeyance  as  is  the  Queen's  prerogative 
in  regard  to  Acts  of  Parliament.  The  premier  is  in 
fact  the  ruler,  but  his  power  depends  upon  possess- 
ing a  majority  in  the  House  of  Commons.  This 
responsible  government,  therefore,  more  quickly  re- 
sponds to  popular  action  than  ours.  The  Senators  arc 
chosen  for  life,  and  are  in  fact  appointed  by  the  pre- 
mier in  power.  The  House  of  Commons  is  elected 
for  five  years,  unless  Parliament  is  sooner  dissolved, 
and  according  to  a  ratio  of  population  to  correspond 
with  the  province  of  Quebec,  which  has  always  the 
fixed  number  of  sixty-five  members.  The  voter  for 
members  of  Parliament  must  have  certain  property 
qualifications,  as  owner  or  tenant,  or,  if  in  a  city  or 
town,  as  earning  three  hundred  dollars  a  year — qualifi- 
cations so  low  as  practically  to  exclude  no  one  who  is 
not  an  idler  and  a  waif;  the  Indian  may  vote  (though 
not  in  the  Territories),  but  the  jMongolian  or  Chinese 
is  excluded.  Members  of  the  House  may  be  returned 
by  any  constituency  in  the  Dominion  without  refer- 
ence to  residence.  All  bills  aflFecting  taxation  or 
revenue  must  originate  in  the  House,  and  be  recom- 
mended by  a  message  from  the  Governor-general. 
The  Government  introduces  bills,  and  takes  the  respon- 
sibility of  them.  The  premier  is  leader  of  the  House; 
there  is  also  a  recognized  leader  of  the  Opposition. 
In  case  the  Government  cannot  command  a  majority 
it  resigns,  and  the  Governor-general  forms  a  new 
cabinet.  In  theory,  also,  if  the  Crown  (represented 
by  the  Governor-general)  should  resort  to  the  extreme 


■. 


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416 


Comments  on  Canada. 


1) 


exercise  of  its  prerogative  in  refusing  the  advice  of 
its  ministers,  the  ministers  must  submit,  or  resign  and 
give  place  to  others. 

The  Federal  Government  has  all  powers  not  granted 
expressly  to  the  provinces.  In  practice  its  jurisdic- 
tion extends  over  the  public  debt,  expenditure,  and 
public  loans;  treaties;  customs  and  excise  duties;  trade 
and  commerce  ;  navigation,  shipping,  and  fisheries  ; 
light-houses  and  harbors;  the  postal,  naval,  and  mili- 
tary services;  public  statistics;  monetary  institutions, 
banks,  banking,  currency,  coining  (but  all  coining  is 
done  in  England);  insolvency;  criminal  law;  marriage 
and  divorce;  public  works,  railways,  and  canals. 

The  provinces  have  no  militia;  that  all  belongs  to 
the  Dominion.  Marriage  is  solemnized  according  to 
provincial  regulations,  but  the  power  of  divorce  exists 
in  Canada  in  the  Federal  Parliament  only,  except  in 
the  province  of  New  Brunswick.  This  province  has 
a  court  of  divorce  and  matrimonial  causes,  with  a 
single  judge,  a  survival  of  pre-confederation  times, 
which  grants  divorces  a  vinculo  for  scriptural  causes, 
and  a  mensd  et  thoro  for  desertion  or  cruelty,  with 
right  of  appeal  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  province 
and  to  the  Privy  Council  of  the  Dominion.  Criminal 
law  is  one  all  over  the  Dominion,  but  there  is  no  law 
against  adultery  or  incest.  The  British  Act  contains 
no  provision  analogous  to  that  in  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States  which  forbids  any  State  to  pass  a 
law  impairing  the  obligation  of  contracts  —  a  serious 
defect. 

The  Federal  Government  has  a  Supreme  Court,  con- 
sisting of  a  chief -justice  and  five  puisne  judges,  which 
has  original  jurisdiction  in  civil  suits  involving  the 


•  u   ?'  t  ■ 


is 


Comments  on  Canada. 


417 


validity  of  Dominion  antl  j)rovincial  acts,  and  appel- 
late in  appeals  from  the  provincial  courts.  The  Fed- 
eral Government  appoints  and  pays  the  judges  of  the 
Superior,  District,  and  County  courts  of  the  provinces; 
but  the  provinces  may  constitute,  maintain,  and  or- 
ganize provincial  courts,  civil  and  criminal,  including 
procedure  in  civil  matters  in  those  courts.  But  as 
the  provinces  cannot  appoint  any  judicial  officer  above 
the  rank  of  magistrate,  it  may  happen  that  a  consti- 
tuted court  may  be  inoperative  for  want  of  a  judge. 
This  is  one  of  the  points  of  friction  between  the  fed- 
eral and  provincial  authorities,  and  in  the  fall  of  1888 
it  led  to  the  trouble  in  Quebec,  when  the  Ottawa 
cabinet  disallowed  the  appointment  of  two  provincial 
judges  made  by  the  Quebec  premier. 

The  Dominion  has  another  power  unknown  to  our 
Constitution;  that  is,  disallowance  or  veto  of  provin- 
cial acts.  This  power  is  regarded  with  great  jealousy 
by  the  provinces.  It  is  claimed  by  one  party  that  it 
should  only  be  exercised  on  the  ground  of  unconstitu- 
tionality; by  the  other,  that  it  may  be  exercised  in 
the  interest  of  the  Dominion  generally.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  it  has  been  sometimes  exercised  in  cases  that 
the  special  province  felt  to  be  an  interference  with  its 
rights. 

Another  cause  of  friction,  aggravated  by  the  power 
of  disallowance,  has  arisen  from  conflict  in  jurisdic- 
tion as  to  railways.  Both  the  Dominion  and  the 
provinces  may  charter  and  build  railways.  But  the 
British  Act  forbids  the  province  to  legislate  as  to 
lines  of  steam  or  other  ships,  railways,  canals,  and 
telegraphs  connecting  the  province  with  any  other 
province,  or  extending  beyond  its  limits,  or  any  such 
27 


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418 


Comments  on  Canada. 


work  actually  within  the  limits  which  the  Canadian 
Parliament  may  declare  for  the  general  advantage  of 
Canada;  that  is,  declare  it  to  be  a  Dominion  work. 
A  promoter,  therefore,  cannot  tell  with  any  certainty 
what  a  charter  is  worth,  or  who  will  have  jurisdiction 
over  it.  The  trouble  in  Manitoba  in  the  fall  of  1888 
between  the  province  and  tlie  Canadian  Pacific  road 
(which  is  a  Dominion  road  in  the  meaning  of  the  Act) 
could  scarcely  have  arisen  if  the  definition  of  Do- 
minion and  provincial  rights  had  been  clearer. 

But  a  more  serious  cause  of  weakness  to  the  prov- 
inces and  embarrassment  to  the  Dominion  is  in  the 
provincial  subsidies.  When  the  present  confedera- 
tion was  formed  the  Dominion  took  on  the  provincial 
debts  up  to  a  certain  amount.  It  also  agreed  to  pay 
annually  to  each  province,  in  half-yearly  payments,  a 
subsidy.  By  the  British  Act  this  annual  payment 
was  $80,000  to  Ontario,  $70,000  to  Quebec,  $60,000  to 
Nova  Scotia,  $50,000  to  New  Brunswick,  with  some- 
thing additional  to  the  last  two.  In  1886-87  the  subsi- 
dies paid  to  all  the  provinces  amounted  to  $4,109,341. 
This  is  as  if  the  United  States  should  undertake  to 
raise  a  fixed  revenue  to  distribute  among  the  States — 
a  proceeding  alien  to  our  ideas  of  the  true  function 
of  the  General  Government,  and  certain  to  lead  to 
State  demoralization,  and  tending  directly  to  under- 
mine its  self-support  and  dignity.  It  is  an  idea  quite 
foreign  to  the  conception  of  political  economy  that 
it  is  best  for  people  to  earn  what  they  spend,  and  only 
spend  what  they  earn.  This  subsidy  under  the  Act 
was  a  grant  equal  to  eighty  cents  a  head  of  the  p()]>- 
ulation.  Besides  this  there  is  given  to  each  prov- 
ince an  annual  allowance  for  goverament ;  also  an 


Comtnents  on  Canada. 


410 


annual  allowance  of  interest  on  the  amount  of  debt 
allowed  where  the  province  has  not  reached  the  limit 
of  the  authorized  debt.  It  is  the  theory  of  the  Federal 
Government  that  in  takinf?  on  these  pecuniary  burdens 
of  the  provinces  they  will  individually  feel  them  less, 
and  that  if  money  is  to  be  raised  the  Dominion  can 
procure  it  on  more  favorable  terms  than  the  provinces. 
The  system,  nevertheless,  seems  vicious  to  our  ajjprc- 
hension,  for  nothing  is  clearer  to  us  than  that  neither 
the  State  nor  the  general  welfare  would  be  promoted 
if  the  States  were  pensioners  of  the  General  Govern- 
ment. 

The  provinces  are  miniature  copies  of  the  Dominion 
Government.  Each  has  a  Lieutenant-governor,  who 
is  appointed  by  the  Ottawa  Governor-general  and 
ministry  (that  is,  in  fact,  by  the  premier),  whose  sal- 
ary is  paid  by  the  Dominion  Parliament.  In  theory, 
he  represents  the  Crown,  and  is  above  parties.  lie 
forms  his  cabinet  out  of  the  party  in  majority  in  the 
elective  Assembly.  Each  province  has  an  elective 
Assembly,  and  most  of  them  have  two  Houses,  one  of 
which  is  a  Senate  appointed  for  life.  The  provincial 
cabinet  has  a  premier,  who  is  the  leader  of  the  House, 
and  the  Opposition  is  represented  by  a  recognized 
leader.  The  Government  is  as  responsible  as  the 
Federal  Government.  This  organization  of  recog- 
nized r.nd  responsible  leaders  greatly  facilitates  the 
despatch  of  public  business.  Affairs  are  brought  to 
a  direct  issue;  and  if  the  Government  cannot  carry 
its  measures,  or  a  dead-lock  occurs,  the  ministry  is 
changed,  or  an  appeal  is  had  to  the  people.  Canadiaii 
statesmen  point  to  the  want  of  responsibility  in  the 
conduct  of  public  business  in  our  House,  and  the 


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■    ii 

420 


Comments  on  Canada. 


(lead-lock  between   the  Senate  and  the  House,  as  a 
state  of  things  that  needs  a  remedy. 

The  provinces  retain  possession  of  the  public  hinds 
belonging  to  them  at  tlie  time  of  confederation ; 
Manitoba,  which  had  none  when  it  was  created  a 
province  out  of  north-west  territory,  has  since  had  a 
gift  of  swamp  lands  from  tlie  Dominion.  Emigra- 
tion and  immigration  are  subjects  of  both  federal  and 
provincial  legislation,  but  provincial  laws  must  not 
conflict  witli  federal  laws. 

The  provinces  appoint  all  officers  for  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice  except  judges,  and  are  charged  witii 
the  general  administration  of  justice  and  the  mainten- 
ance of  civil  and  criminal  courts;  they  control  ' 
prisons,  and  reformatories,  but  not  the  penitenti' 
to  which  convicts  sentenced  for  over  two  years  must 
be  committed.  They  control  also  asylums  and  chari- 
table institutions,  all  strictly  municipal  institutions, 
local  Avorks,  the  solemnization  of  marriage,  jjroperty 
and  civil  rights,  and  shop,  tavern,  and  other  licenses. 
In  regard  to  the  latter,  a  conflict  of  jurisdiction  arose 
on  the  passage  in  1878  by  tlie  Canadian  Parliament  of 
a  temperance  Act.  The  result  of  judicial  and  Privy 
Council  decisions  on  this  was  to  sustain  the  right  of 
the  Dominion  to  legislate  on  temperance,  but  to  give 
to  the  provincial  legislatures  the  right  to  deal  witli 
the  subject  of  licenses  for  the  sale  of  liquors.  In 
the  Territories  prohibition  prevails  under  the  federal 
statutes,  modified  by  the  right  of  the  Lieutenant- 
governor  to  grant  special  permits.  The  effect  of  the 
general  law  has  been  most  salutary  in  excluding  liquor 
from  the  Indians. 

But  the  most  important  subject  left  to  the  provinces 


Coinmcnta  on  Canada. 


421 


is  education,  over  which  thov  have  cxchisivo  control. 
What  this  means  we  shall  see  when  wo  come  to  con- 
sider the  provinces  of  Quebec  and  Ontario  as  illustra- 
tions. 

Broadly  stated,  C^inada  has  representative  tjovern- 
mont  by  ministers  responsible  to  the  people,  a  federal 
government  charged  with  the  general  good  of  the 
whole,  and  provincial  governments  attending  to  local 
interests.  It  differs  widely  from  the  En^'llsh  (Tovern- 
ment  in  subjects  remitted  to  the  j)rovincial  legisla- 
tures and  in  the  freedom  of  the  municipalities,  so  that 
Canada  has  self-government  compare  le  to  that  in  the 
United  States.  Two  striking  limitations  arc  that  the 
provinces  cannot  keep  a  militia  force,  and  that  the 
provinces  have  no  power  of  final  legislation,  every  Act 
being  subject  to  Dominion  rev.  ion  and  veto. 

The  two  parties  are  arranged  on  general  lines  that 
we  might  expect  from  the  organization  of  the  central 
and  the  local  governments.  The  Conservative,  wh*.'.. 
calls  itself  Liberal-Conservative,  inclines  to  the  con- 
solidation and  increase  of  federal  power;  the  Liberal 
(styled  the  "  Grits  ")  is  what  we  Avould  call  a  State- 
rights  party.  Curiously  enough,  while  the  Ottawa 
Government  is  Conservative,  and  the  ministry  of  Sir 
John  A.  Macdonald  is  sustained  by  a  handsome  ma- 
jority, all  the  provincial  governments  are  at  present 
Liberal.  The  Conservatives  say  that  this  is  because 
the  opinion  of  the  country  sustains  the  general  Con- 
servative policy  for  the  develoj)ment  of  the  Dominion, 
so  that  the  same  constituency  will  elect  a  Conservative 
member  to  the  Dominion  House  and  a  Liberal  member 
to  the  provincial  House.  The  Liberals  say  that  this 
result  in  some  cases  is  brought  about  by  the  manner 


I 


422 


Comments  on  Canada. 


in  which  the  central  Government  has  arranged  the 
voting  districts  for  the  central  Parliament,  which  do 
not  coincide  with  the  provincial  districts.  There  is 
no  doubt  some  truth  in  this,  but  I  believe  that  at 
present  the  sentiment  of  nationality  is  what  sustains 
the  Conservative  majority  in  the  Ottawa  Government. 
The  general  policy  of  the  Conservative  Government 
may  fairly  be  described  as  0'\e  lor  the  rapid  develop- 
ment of  the  country.  This  leads  it  to  desire  more 
federal  power,  and  there  are  some  leading  spirits  who, 
although  content  with  the  present  Constitution,  would 
not  oppose  a  legislative  union  of  all  the  provinces. 
The  policy  of  "  development "  led  the  party  to  adopt 
the  present  moderate  protective  tariff.  It  led  it  to 
the  building  of  railways,  to  the  granting  of  subsidies, 
in  money  and  in  land,  to  railways,  to  the  subsidizing 
of  steamship  lines,  to  the  active  stimulation  of  immi- 
gration by  offering  extraordinary  inducements  to  set- 
tlers. Plaving  a  vast  domain,  sparsely  settled,  but 
capable  of  sustaining  a  population  not  less  dense  than 
that  in  the  northern  parts  of  Europe,  the  ambition  of 
the  Conservative  statesmen  has  been  to  open  up  the  re- 
sources of  the  country  and  to  plant  a  powerful  nation. 
The  Liberal  criticism  of  this  programme  I  shall  speak 
of  later.  At  present  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the 
tariff  did  stimulate  and  build  up  manufactories  in  cot- 
ton, leather,  iron,  including  implements  of  agriculture, 
to  the  extent  that  they  were  more  than  able  to  supply 
the  Canadian  market.  As  an  item,  after  the  abroga- 
tion of  the  reciprocity  treaty,  the  factories  of  Ontario 
were  able  successfully  to  compete  with  the  United 
States  in  the  supply  of  agricultural  implements  to  the 
great  North-west,  and  in  fact  to  take  the  market.    I 


Comments  on  Canada. 


423 


think  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  protective  tariff  did 
not  only  build  up  home  industries,  but  did  give  an  ex- 
traordinary stimulus  to  the  general  business  of  the 
Dominion. 

Under  this  policy  of  development  and  subsidies  the 
Dominion  has  been  accumulating  a  debt,  which  now 
reaches  something  over  8260,000,000.  Before  esti- 
mating the  comparative  size  of  this  debt,  the  statis- 
tician wants  to  see  whether  this  debt  and  the  provin- 
cial debts  together  equal,  per  capita,  the  federal  and 
State  debts  together  of  tlie  United  States.  It  is  esti- 
mated by  one  authority  that  the  public  lands  of  the  Do- 
minion could  pay  the  debt,  and  it  is  noted  that  it  has 
mainly  been  made  for  railways,  canals,  and  other  perma- 
nent improvements,  and  not  in  offensive  or  defensive 
wars.  The  statistical  record  of  1887  estimates  that  the 
provincial  debts  added  to  the  public  debt  give  a  per  cap- 
ita of  $48.88.  The  same  year  the  united  debts  of  States 
and  general  government  in  the  United  States  gave  a 
per  capita  of  |32,  but,  the  municipal  and  county  debts 
added,  the  per  capiia  would  be  $55.  If  the  unreport- 
ed municipal  debts  in  Canada  were  added,  i  suppose 
the  per  capita  would  somewhat  exceed  that  in  the 
United  States. 

Before  glancing  at  the  development  and  condition 
of  Canada  in  confederation  we  will  complete  the 
official  outline  by  a  reference  to  the  civil  service  and 
to  the  militia.  The  British  Government  has  with- 
drawn all  the  imperial  troops  from  Canada  except 
a  small  garrison  at  Halifax,  and  a  naval  establishment 
there  and  at  Victoria.  The  Queen  is  commander-in- 
chief  of  all  the  military  and  naval  forces  in  Canada, 
but  the  control  of  the  same  is  in  the  Dominion  Parlia- 


5 ; 


I 


424 


Comments  on  Canada. 


ment.  The  general  of  the  military  force  is  a  British 
officer.  There  are  permanent  corps  and  schools  of  in- 
struction in  various  places,  amounting  in  all  to  about 
950  men,  exclusive  of  officers,  and  the  number  is  limit- 
ed to  1000.  There  is  a  royal  military  school  at  Kings- 
ton, with  about  80  cadets.  The  active  militia,  Decem- 
ber 3],  1887,  in  all  the  provinces,  the  whole  being 
under  Dominion  control,  amounted  to  38,152.  The 
military  expenditure  that  year  was  $1,281,255.  The 
diminishing  military  pensions  of  that  year  amounted 
to  $35,100.  The  reserve  militia  includes  all  the  male 
inhabitants  of  the  age  of  eighteen  and  under  sixty. 
In  1887  the  total  active  cavalry  was  under  2000. 

The  members  of  the  civil  service  are  nearly  all  Ca- 
nadians. In  the  Federal  Government  and  in  the  prov- 
inces there  is  an  organized  system;  the  federal  system 
has  been  constantly  amended,  and  is  not  yet  free  of 
recognized  defects.  The  main  points  of  excellence, 
more  or  less  perfectly  attained,  may  be  stated  to  be  a 
decent  entrance  examination  for  all,  a  special,  strict, 
and  particular  examination  for  some  who  are  to  un- 
dertake technical  duties,  and  a  secure  tenure  of  office. 
The  federal  Act  of  1886,  which  has  since  been  amended 
in  details,  was  not  arrived  at  without  many  exper- 
iments and  the  accumulation  of  testimonies  and  di- 
verse reports  ;  and  it  did  not  follow  exactly  the 
majority  report  of  1881,  but  leaned  too  much,  in  the 
judgment  of  many,  to  the  English  system,  the  working 
of  which  has  not  been  satisfactory.  The  main  feat- 
ures of  the  Act,  omitting  details,  are  these :  The  service 
has  two  divisions — first,  deputy  heads  of  departments 
and  employes  in  the  Ottawa  departments ;  second, 
others  than  those  employed  in  Ottawa  departments, 


13 
I 


Comments  on  Canada. 


425 


including  customs  officials,  inland  revenue  officials, 
post-office  inspectors,  railway  mail  clerks,  city  post- 
masters, their  assistants,  clerks,  and  carriers,  and  in- 
spector of  penitentiaries.  A  board  of  three  examiners 
is  appointed  by  the  Governor  in  council.  All  appoint- 
ments shall  be  "during  pleasure,"  and  no  persons  shall 
be  appointed  or  promoted  to  any  place  below  that 
of  deputy  head  unless  he  has  passed  the  requisite  ex- 
amination and  served  the  probationary  term  of  six 
months;  he  must  not  be  over  thirty-five  years  old  for 
appointment  in  Ottawa  departments  (this  limit  is  not 
fixed  for  the  "  outside  "  appointments),  nor  under  fif- 
teen in  a  lower  grade  than  third-class  clerk,  nor  under 
eighteen  in  other  cases.  Appointees  must  be  sound 
in  health  and  of  good  character.  Women  are  not  ap- 
pointed. A  deputy  head  may  be  removed  "on  pleas- 
ure," but  the  reasons  for  the  removal  must  be  laid 
before  both  Houses  of  Parliament.  Appointments 
may  be  made  without  reference  to  age  on  the  report 
of  the  deputy  head,  on  account  of  technical  or  profes- 
sional qualifications  or  the  public  interest.  City  post- 
masters, and  such  oflicers  as  inspectors  and  collectors, 
may  be  appointed  without  examination  or  reference  to 
the  rules  for  promotion.  Examinations  are  dispensed 
with  in  other  special  cases.  Removals  may  be  made 
by  the  Governor  in  council.  Reports  of  all  examina- 
tions and  of  the  entire  civil  service  list  must  be  laid 
before  Parliament  each  session.  Amendments  have 
been  made  to  the  law  in  the  direction  of  relieving; 
from  exainination  on  their  promotion  men  who  have 
been  long  in  the  service,  and  an  amendment  of  last 
session  omitted  some  examinations  altogether. 

It  must  be  stated  also  that  the  service  is  not  free  from 


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■m 


426 


Comments  on  Canada. 


favoritism,  and  that  influence  is  used,  if  not  always 
necessary,  to  ^et  in  and  to  get  on  in  it.  The  law  has 
been  gone  around  by  means  of  the  plea  of  "  special 
qualifications,"  and  this  evasion  has  sometimes  been 
considered  a  political  necessity  on  account  of  service 
to  a  minister  or  to  the  party  generally.  I  suppose 
that  the  party  in  power  favors  its  own  adherents. 
The  competitive  system  of  England  has  a  mischievous 
effect  in  the  encouragement  of  the  examinations  to 
direct  studies  towards  a  service  which  nine  in  ten  of 
the  applicants  vrill  never  reach.  This  evil,  of  numbers 
qualified  but  not  appointed,  has  grown  so  great  in 
Canada  that  it  has  lately  been  ordered  that  there  shall 
be  only  one  examination  in  each  year. 

The  federal  pension  system  cannot  be  considered 
settled.  A  man  may  be  superannuated  at  any  time, 
but  by  custom,  not  law,  he  retires  at  the  full  age  of 
sixty.  While  in  service  he  pays  a  superannuation 
allowance  of  two  and  a  half  per  cent,  on  his  salary  for 
thirty-five  years;  after  that,  no  more.  If  lie  is  super- 
annuated after  ten  years'  service,  say,  he  gets  one- 
fiftieth  of  his  salary  for  each  year.  If  he  is  not  in 
fault  in  any  way.  Government  may  add  ten  years  more 
to  his  service,  so  as  to  give  him  a  larger  allowance. 
If  a  man  serves  the  full  term  of  thirty-five  years  he 
gets  thirty-five  fiftieths  of  his  salary  in  pension.  This 
pension  system,  recognized  as  essential  to  a  good  civil 
service,  has  this  weakness  :  A  man  pays  two  and  a 
half  per  cent,  of  his  salary  for  twenty  years.  If  the 
salary  is  $3000,  his  payments  would  have  amounted 
to  $1200,  with  interest,  in  that  time.  If  he  then  dies, 
his  widow  gets  only  two  months'  salary  as  a  solatium; 
all  the  rest  is  lost  to  her,  and  goes  to  the  superannua- 


Comments  on  Canada. 


427 


tion  fund  of  the  treasury.  Or,  a  raan  is  superannuated 
after  thirty-five  years;  he  has  paid  perhaps  $2100,  with 
interest:  he  draws,  say,  one  year's  superannuative  al- 
lowance, and  then  dies.  His  family  get  nothing  at 
all,  not  even  the  two  months'  salary  they  would  have 
had  if  he  had  died  in  service.  This  is  illogical  and 
unjust.  If  the  two  and  a  half  per  cent,  had  been  put 
into  a  life  policy,  the  insurance  being  undertaken  by 
the  Government,  a  decent  sum  would  have  been  real- 
ized at  death. 

A  civil  service  is  also  established  in  the  provinces. 
That  in  Quebec  is  better  organized  than  the  federal; 
the  Government  adds  to  the  pension  fund  one-fourth 
of  that  retained  from  the  salaries,  and  half  pensions 
are  extended  to  widows  and  children. 

It  will  be  seen  that  this  pension  is  an  essential  part 
of  the  civil  service  system,  and  the  method  of  it  is  at 
once  a  sort  of  insurance  and  a  stimulation  to  faithful 
service.  Good  service  is  a  constant  inducement  to 
retention,  to  promotion,  and  to  increase  of  pension. 
The  Canadians  say  that  the  systems  work  well  both  in 
the  federal  and  provincial  services,  and  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  the  matter  of  responsible  government, 
they  think  their  government  superior  to  ours. 

The  policy  of  the  Dominion  Government,  when  con- 
federation had  given  it  the  form  and  territory  of  a 
great  nation,  was  to  develop  this  into  reality  and 
solidity  by  creating  industries,  building  railways,  and 
filling  up  the  country  with  settlers.  As  to  the  means 
of  carrying  out  this  the  two  parties  differed  somewhat. 
The  Conservatives  favored  active  stimulation  to  the 
extent  of  drawing  on  the  future ;  the  Liberals  favored 
what  they  call  a  more  natural  if  a  slower  growth.   To 


I 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


illustrate :  the  Conservatives  enacted  a  tariff,  which 
was  protective,  to  build  up  industries,  and  it  is  now 
continued,  as  in  their  view  a  necessity  for  raising  the 
revenue  needed  for  government  expenses  and  for  the 
development  of  the  country.  The  Liberals  favored  a 
low  tariff,  and  in  the  main  the  principles  of  free-trade. 
It  might  be  impertinence  to  attempt  to  say  now 
whether  the  Canadian  afiiliations  are  with  the  Dem- 
ocratic or  the  Republican  party  in  the  United  States, 
but  it  is  historical  to  say  that  for  the  most  part  the 
Unionists  had  not  the  sympathy  of  the  Conservatives 
during  our  Civil  War,  and  that  they  had  the  sympathy 
of  the  Liberals  generally,  and  that  the  sympathy  of  the 
Liberals  continued  with  the  Republican  party  down  to 
the  Presidential  campaign  of  1884.  It  seemed  to  the 
Conservatives  a  necessity  for  the  unity  and  growth  of 
the  Dominion  to  push  railway  construction.  The  Lib- 
erals, if  I  understand  their  policy,  opposed  mortgag- 
ing the  future,  and  would  rather  let  railways  spring 
from  local  action  and  local  necessity  throughout  the 
Dominion.  But  whatever  the  policies  of  parties  may 
be,  the  Conservative  Government  has  promoted  by  sub- 
sidies of  money  and  grants  of  land  all  the  great  so- 
called  Dominion  railways.  The  chief  of  these  in 
national  importance,  because  it  crosses  the  continent, 
is  the  Canadian  Pacific,  In  order  that  I  might  under- 
stand its  relation  to  the  development  of  the  country, 
and  have  some  comprehension  of  the  extent  of  Cana- 
dian territory,  I  made  the  journey  on  this  line — 3000 
miles — from  Montreal  to  Vancouver. 

The  Canadians  have  contributed  liberally  to  the 
promotion  of  railways.  The  Hand-book  of  1886  says 
that  $187,000,000  have  been  given  by  the  governments 


Comments  on  Canada. 


429 


(federal  and  provincial)  and  by  the  municipalities  to- 
wards the  construction  of  the  13,000  miles  of  railways 
within  the  Dominion.  The  same  authority  says  that 
from  1881  to  July,  1885,  the  Federal  Government  gave 
174,500,000  to  the  Canadian  Pacific.  The  Conserva- 
tives like  to  note  that  the  railway  development  corre- 
sponds with  the  political  life  of  Sir  John  A.  Macdon- 
ald,  for  upon  his  entrance  upon  political  life  in  1844 
there  were  only  fourteen  miles  of  railway  in  operation. ' 
The  Federal  Government  began  surveys  for  the  Ca- 
nadian Pacific  road  in  1871,  a  company  was  chartered 
the  same  year  to  build  it,  but  no  results  followed. 
The  Government  then  began  the  construction  itself, 
and  built  several  disconnected  sections.  Tiie  present 
company  was  chartered  in  1880.  The  Dominion  Gov- 
ernment granted  it  a  subsidy  of  $25,000,000  and  25,- 
000,000  acres  of  land,  and  transferred  to  it,  free  of 
cost,  713  miles  of  railway  which  had  been  built  by 
the  Government,  at  a  cost  of  about  135,000,000.  In 
November^  1885,  considerably  inside  the  time  of  con- 
tract, the  road  was  finished  to  the  Pacific,  and  in  1886 
cars  were  runninfj  recfularlv  its  entire  leniijth.  In 
point  of  time,  and  considering  the  substantial  charac- 
ter of  the  road,  it  is  a  marvellous  achievement.  Sub- 
sequently, in  order  to  obtain  a  line  from  Montreal  to 
the  maritime  ports,  a  subsidy  of  8186,000  per  annum 
for  a  term  of  twenty  years  was  granted  to  the  Atlantic 
and  North-west  Railway  Company,  which  undertook 
to  build  or  acquire  a  line  from  Montreal  via  Sher- 
brooke,  and  across  the  State  of  Maine  to  St.  John, 
St.  Andrews,  and  Halifax.  This  is  one  of  the  leased 
lines  of  the  Canadian  Pacific,  which  finished  it  last 
December. 


\i  \i 


f(f'  |i 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


iii..: 


The  main  line,  from  Quebec  to  Montreal  and  Van- 
couver, is  3065  miles.  The  leased  lines  measure  2412 
miles,  one  under  construction  112,  making  a  total 
mileage  of  5589.  Adding  to  this  the  lines  in  which 
the  company's  influence  amounts  to  a  control  (includ- 
ing those  on  American  soil  to  St.  Paul  and  Chicago), 
the  total  mileage  of  the  company  is  over  6500.  The 
branch  lines,  built  or  acquired  in  Quebec,  Ontario,  and 
Manitoba,  are  all  necessary  feeders  to  the  main  line. 
The  cost  of  the  Canadian  Pacific,  including  the  line 
built  by  the  Government  and  acquired  (not  leased) 
lines,  is:  Cost  of  road,  $170,689,629.51;  equipment, 
$10,570,933.22;  amount  of  deposit  with  Government 
to  guarantee  three  per  cent,  on  capital  stock  until  Au- 
gust 17,  1893,  $10,310,954.75.     Total,  $191,571,517.48. 

Without  going  into  the  financial  statement,  nor  ap- 
pending the  leases  and  guarantees,  any  further  than 
to  note  that  the  capital  stock  is  $65,000,000  and  the 
first  mortgage  bonds  (five  per  cent.)  are  $34,999,633, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  in  the  report  the  capital 
foots  up  $112,908,019.  The  total  earnings  for  1885 
were  $8,368,493;  for  1886,  $10,081,803;  for  1887, 
$11,606,412,  Avhile  the  working  expenses  for  1887  were 
^'8, 102,294.  The  gross  earnings  for  1888  are  about 
814,000,000,  and  the  net  earnings  about  $4,000,000. 
These  figures  show  the  steady  growth  of  business. 

Being  a  Dominion  road,  and  favored,  the  company 
had  a  monopoly  in  Manitoba  for  building  roads  south 
of  its  line  and  roads  connecting  with  foreign  lines. 
This  monopoly  Avas  surrendered  in  1887  upon  agree- 
ment of  the  Dominion  Government  to  guarantee  3^ 
per  cent,  interest  on  $15,000,000  of  the  company's 
land  grant  bonds  for  fifty  years.     The  company  has 


Comments  on  Canada. 


431 


paid  its  debt  to  the  Government,  partly  by  surrender 
of  a  portion  of  its  lands,  and  now  absolutely  owns  its 
entire  line  free  of  (Tovcrnment  obligations.  It  has, 
however,  a  claim  upon  the  Government  of  something 
like  six  million  dollars,  now  in  litigation,  en  j)ortions 
of  the  mountain  sections  of  the  road  built  by  the 
Government,  which  are  not  up  to  the  standard  guar- 
anteed in  the  contract  with  the  company. 

The  road  was  extended  to  the  Pacific  as  a  necessity 
of  the  national  development,  and  the  present  Govern- 
ment is  convinced  that  it  is  worth  to  the  country 
all  it  has  cost.  The  Liberals'  criticism  is  that  the  Gov- 
ernment has  spent  a  vast  sum  for  what  it  can  show 
no  assets,  and  that  it  has  enriched  a  private  compa- 
ny instead  of  OAvning  the  road  itself.  The  property 
is  no  doubt  a  good  one,  for  the  road  is  well  built  as 
to  grades  and  road-bed,  excellently  equipped,  and  not- 
withstanding the  heavy  Lake  Superior  and  mountain 
work,  at  a  less  cost  than  some  roads  that  preceded  it. 

The  full  significance  of  this  transcontinental  line 
to  Canada,  Great  Britain,  and  the  United  States  will 
appear  upon  emphasizing  the  value  of  the  line  across 
the  State  of  Maine  to  connect  with  St.  John  and  Hali- 
fax; upon  the  fact  that  its  western  terminus  is  in  regu- 
lar steamer  communication  with  Hong-Kong  via  Yo- 
kohama; that  the  company  is  building  new  and  swift 
steamers  for  this  line,  to  which  the  British  Govern- 
ment has  granted  an  annual  subsidy  of  £60,000,  and 
the  Dominion  one  of  Sl5,000;  that  a  line  will  run 
from  Vancouver  to  Australia  ;  and  that  a  part  of  this 
round-the-world  route  is  to  be  a  line  of  fast  steamers 
between  Halifax  and  England.  The  Canadian  Pacific 
is  England's  shortest  route  to  her  Pacific  colonies, 


It 


432 


Comments  on  Canada. 


and  to  Japan  and  China;  and  in  case  of  a  blockade  in 
the  Suez  Canal  it  would  become  of  the  first  impor- 
tance for  Australia  and  India.  It  is  noted  as  signifi- 
cant by  an  enthusiast  of  the  line  that  the  first  loaded 
train  that  passed  over  its  entire  length  carried  Britisli 
naval  stores  transferred  from  Quebec  to  Vancouver, 
and  that  the  first  car  of  merchandise  was  a  cargo  of 
Jamaica  sugar  refined  at  Halifax  and  sent  to  British 
Columbia. 

II. 

We  left  Montreal,  attached  to  the  regular  train,  on 
the  evening  of  September  22d.  The  company  runs 
six  through  trains  a  week,  omitting  the  despatch  of  a 
train  on  Sunday  from  each  terminus.  The  time  is  six 
days  and  five  nights.  "We  travelled  in  the  private  car 
of  Mr.  T.  G.  Shaughnessy,  the  manager,  who  was  on 
a  tour  of  inspection,  and  took  it  leisurely,  stopping  at 
points  of  interest  on  the  way.  The  weather  was  bad, 
rainy  and  cold,  in  eastern  Canada,  as  it  was  all  over 
Nevv'  England,  and  as  it  continued  to  be  through  Sep- 
tember and  October.  During  our  absence  there  was 
snow  both  in  Montreal  and  Quebec.  We  passed  out 
of  the  rain  into  lovely  weather  north  of  Lale  Superior; 
encountered  rain  again  at  Wnnipeg ;  but  a  hundred 
miles  west  of  there,  on  the  prairie,  we  were  blessed 
with  as  delightful  weather  as  the  globe  can  furnisii, 
which  continued  all  through  the  remainder  of  the  trip 
until  our  return  to  Montreal,  October  12th.  The 
climate  just  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  was  a  little 
warmer  than  was  needed  for  comfort  (at  the  time  On- 
tario and  Quebec  had  snow),  but  the  air  was  always 
pure  and  exhilarating;  and  all  through  the  mountains 


Comments  on  Canada. 


433 


we  had  the  perfection  of  lovely  days.  On  the  Pacific 
it  was  still  the  dry  season,  though  the  autumn  rains, 
which  continue  all  winter,  with  scarcely  any  snow, 
were  not  far  off.  For  mere  physical  pleasure  of  liv- 
ing and  breathing,  I  know  no  atmosphere  superior  to 
that  we  encountered  on  the  rolling  lands  east  of  the 
Rockies. 

Between  Ottawa  and  Winnipeg  (from  midnight  of 
the  22d  till  the  morning  of  the  25th)  there  is  not 
much  to  interest  the  tourist,  unless  he  is  engaged  in 
lumbering  or  mining.  What  we  saw  was  mainly  a 
monotonous  wilderness  of  rocks  and  small  poplars, 
though  the  country  has  agricultural  capacities  after 
leaving  Rat  Portage  (north  of  Lake  of  the  Woods), 
just  before  coming  upon  the  Manitoba  prairies.  There 
were  more  new  villages  and  greater  crowds  of  people 
at  the  stations  than  I  expected.  From  Sudbury  the 
company  runs  a  line  to  the  Sault  Sainte  Marie  to  con- 
nect with  lines  it  controls  to  Duluth  and  St.  Paul. 
At  Port  Arthur  and  Fort  William  is  evidence  of 
great  transportation  activity,  and  all  along  the  Lake 
Superior  Division  there  are  signs  that  the  expecta- 
tions of  profitable  business  in  lumber  and  minerals 
will  be  realized.  At  Port  Arthur  we  strike  the 
Western  Division.  On  the  Western,  Mountain,  and 
Pacific  divisions  the  company  has  adopted  the  24- 
hour  system,  by  which  a.m.  and  r.M.  are  abolished, 
and  the  hours  from  noon  till  midnight  are  counted 
as  from  12  to  24  o'clock.  For  instance,  the  train 
reaches  Eagle  River  at  24.55,  Winnipeg  at  9.30,  and 
Brandon  at  10.10. 

At  Winnipeg  we  come  into  the  real  North-west, 
and  a  condition  of  soil,  climate,  and  political  develop- 
28 


I 


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434 


Commenta  on  Canada. 


ment  as  different  from  eastern  Canada  as  Montana 
is  from  New  England.  This  town,  at  the  junction  of 
the  Red  and  Assiniboin  rivers,  in  a  valley  which  is 
one  of  the  finest  wheat-producing  sections  of  the  world, 
is  a  very  important  place.  Railways,  built  and  pro- 
jected, radiate  from  it  like  spokes  from  a  wheel  lud». 
Its  growth  has  been  marvellous.  Formerly  known  as 
Fort  Garry,  the  chief  post  of  the  Hudson's  JJay  Com- 
pany, it  had  in  1871  a  population  of  only  one  hundred. 
It  is  now  the  capital  of  the  province  of  Manitoba, 
contains  the  chief  workshops  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
between  JMontreal  and  Vancouver,  and  has  a  popula- 
tion of  25,000.  It  is  laid  out  on  a  grand  scale,  with 
very  broad  streets — Main  Street  is  200  feet  wide — has 
many  substantial  public  and  business  buildings,  street- 
cars, and  electric-lights,  and  abundant  facilities  for 
trade.  At  present  it  is  in  a  condition  of  subsided 
"boom;"  the  whole  province  has  not  more  than  120,- 
000  people,  and  the  city  for  that  number  is  out  of  pro- 
portion. Winnipeg  must  wait  a  little  for  the  devel- 
opment of  the  country.  It  seems  to  the  people  that 
the  town  would  start  up  again  if  it  had  more  railroads. 
Among  the  projects  much  discussed  is  a  road  north- 
ward between  Lake  Winnipeg  and  Lake  Manitoba, 
turning  eastward  to  York  Factory  on  Hudson's  ]5ay. 
The  idea  is  to  reach  a  short  water  route  to  Europo. 
'  From  all  the  testimony  I  have  read  as  to  ice  ir 
son's  Bay  harbors  and  in  the  straits,  the  shot 
the  straits  are  open,  and  the  uncertaint  av  ^         to 

year  as  to  the  months  they  will  be  op  ,  this  uto 
seems  chimerical.  But  it  does  not  seem  so  to  m  ad- 
vocates, and  there  is  no  doubt  that  a  portion  ol  the 
line  between  the  lakes  first  named  would  develop  a 


Comments  on  Canada. 


435 


good  country  and  pay.  A  more  important  line — in- 
deed, of  the  first  iniportance — is  built  for  200  miles 
north-west  from  Portage  la  Prairie,  destined  to  go  to 
Prince  Albert,  on  the  North  Saskatchewan.  This  is 
the  Manitoba  and  North-west,  and  it  makes  its  con- 
nection from  Portage  la  Prairie  with  Winnipeg  over 
the  Canadian  Pacific.  An  antagonism  has  grown 
up  in  Manitoba  towards  the  Canadian  Pacific.  This 
arose  froni  the  monopoly  privileges  enjoyed  by  it  as  a 
Dominion  road.  The  province  could  build  no  road 
with  extra-territorial  connections.  Tliis  monopoly  was 
surrendered  in  consideration  of  the  guarantee  spoken 
of  from  the  Government.  The  pcoi)le  of  Winnipeg 
also  say  that  the  company  discriminated  against  them 
in  the  matter  of  rates,  and  that  the  province  must 
have  a  competing  outlet.  The  company  says  that  it 
did  not  discriminate,  but  treated  Winnipeg  like  other 
towns  on  the  line,  having  an  eye  to  the  development 
of  the  whole  prairie  region,  and  that  the  trouble  was 
that  it  refused  to  discriminate  in  favor  of  Winnipeg, 
80  that  it  might  become  the  distributing-point  of  the 
whole  North-west.  W^hatever  the  truth  mav  be,  the 
province  grew  increasingly  restless,  and  determined  to 
build  another  road.  The  Canadian  Picific  has  two 
lines  on  either  side  of  the  Red  River,  connecting  at 
Emerson  and  Oretna  with  the  Red  River  branches  of 
the  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Manitoba.  It  has  also 
two  branches  running  westward  south  of  its  main 
line,  penetrating  the  fertile  wheat-fields  of  ISIanitoba. 
The  province  graded  a  third  road,  paralleling  the  two 
to  the  border,  and  the  river,  southward  from  Winnipeg 
to  the  border  connecting  there  v/itli  a  branch  of  the 
Korthern  Pacific,  which  was  eager  to  reach  the  rich 


'    1 

'      i: 

'  I 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


i.-  I 


): 


ri.l. 


^B 


wheat-fields  of  the  North-west.  The  provincial  Red 
River  Railway  also  proposed  to  cross  the  branches  of 
the  Canadian  Pacific,  and  connect  at  Portage  la  Prairie 
with  the  Manitoba  and  North-west.  The  Canadian 
Pacific,  which  l)ad  offered  to  sell  to  the  province  its 
Emerson  branch,  saying  that  there  was  not  business 
enough  for  three  parallel  routes,  insisted  upon  its  legal 
rights  and  resisted  this  crossing.  Hence  the  provincial 
and  railroad  conflict  of  the  fall  of  1888.  The  province 
built  the  new  road,  but  it  Avas  alleged  that  the  North- 
ern Pacific  was  the  real  party,  and  that  Manitoba  has 
80  far  put  itself  into  the  hands  of  that  corporation. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Manitoba  v/ill  have  its 
road  and  connect  the  Northern  Pacific  with  the  Sas- 
katchewan country,  and  very  likely  will  parallel  the 
main  line  of  the  Canadian  Pacific.  But  whether  it 
will  get  from  the  Northern  Pacific  the  relief  it  thought 
itself  refused  by  the  Canadian,  many  people  in  Win- 
nipeg begin  to  doubt;  for  however  eager  rival  rail- 
ways may  be  for  new  territory,  they  are  apt  to  come 
to  an  understanding  in  order  to  keep  up  profitable 
rates.     They  must  live. 

I  went  down  on  the  southern  branch  of  the  Ca- 
nadian Pacific,  which  runs  west,  not  far  from  our  bor- 
der, as  far  as  ]3oissevain.  It  is  a  magnificent  wheat 
country^  and  already  very  well  settled  and  sprinkled 
with  villages.  The  whole  prairie  was  covered  with 
yellov/  wheat -stacks,  and  teams  loaded  with  wheat 
were  wending  their  way  from  all  directions  to  the  ele- 
vators on  the  line.  There  has  been  quite  an  emigra- 
tion of  Russian  Mennonites  to  this  region,  said  to  be 
9000  of  them.  We  passed  near  two  of  their  villages — 
a  couple  of  rows  of  square  unbeautiful  houses  facing 


Comments  on  Canada. 


437 


each  other,  with  a  street  of  mud  between,  as  we  seo 
them  in  pictures  of  Russian  communes.  These  people 
are  a  peculiar  and  somewhat  mystical  sect,  separate 
and  unassimilated  in  habits,  customsi,  and  fi\ith  from 
their  neighbors,  but  peaceful,  industrious,  and  thrifty. 
I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  other  peculiar  immi- 
gration, encouraged  by  the  governments  and  by  pri- 
vate companies. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  fertility  of  all  the 
prairie  region  of  Manitoba  and  Assiniboiii.  Great 
heat  is  developed  in  the  summers,  but  cereals  are 
liable,  as  in  Dakota,  to  be  touched,  as  in  1888,  by  early 
frost.  The  great  drawback  from  Winnipeg  on  west- 
ward is  the  intense  cold  of  winter,  regarded  not  as 
either  agreeable  or  disagreeable,  but  as  a  matter  of 
economy.  The  region,  by  reason  of  e.xtra  expense  for 
fuel,  clothing,  and  housing,  must  always  be  more  ex- 
pensive to  live  in  than,  say,  Ontario. 

The  province  of  Manitoba  is  an  interesting  political 
and  social  study.  It  is  very  unlike  Ontario  or  British 
Columbia.  Its  development  has  l)een,  in  freedom  and 
self-help,  very  like  one  of  our  Western  Territories,  and 
it  is  like  them  in  its  free,  independent  spirit.  It  has 
a  spirit  to  resist  any  imposed  authority.  We  read  of 
the  conflicts  between  the  Hudson's  Bay  and  the  North- 
western Fur  companies  and  the  Selkirk  settlers,  who 
began  to  come  in  in  1812.  Gradually  the  vast  terri- 
tory of  the  North-west  had  a  large  number  of  "  free- 
men," independent  of  any  company,  and  of  half-V  'ced 
Frenchmen.  Other  free  settlers  sifted  in.  The  terri- 
tory was  remote  from  the  Government,  and  had  no 
facilities  of  communication  with  the  East,  even  after 
the  union.     The  rebellion  of  18T0-<1  was  repeated  in 


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438 


Comments  on  Canada. 


U-s'    '- 


WaJr'i 


* 


1885,  when  Riel  was  called  back  from  Montana  lo  head 
the  discontented.  The  settlers  could  not  get  patents 
for  their  lands,  and  they  had  many  grievances,  which 
they  demanded  should  be  redressed  in  a  "  bill  of 
rights."  There  were  aspects  of  the  insurrection,  not 
connected  with  the  race  question,  with  which  man}' 
well-disposed  persons  sympathized.  But  the  discon- 
tent became  a  violent  rebellion,  and  had  to  be  sup- 
pressed. The  execution  of  Kiel,  which  some  of  the 
Conservatives  thought  ill-advised,  raised  a  race  storm 
throughout  Canada;  the  French  element  was  in  a  tu- 
mult, and  some  of  the  Liberals  made  opposition  cap- 
ital out  of  the  event.  In  the  province  of  Quebec  it  is 
still  a  deep  grievance,  for  party  purposes  partly,  as 
was  shown  in  the  recent  election  of  a  federal  member 
of  Parliament  in  Montreal. 

Manitoba  is  Western  in  its  spirit  and  its  sympathies. 
JJefore  the  building  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  its  com- 
munication was  with  Minnesota.  Its  interests  now 
largely  lie  with  its  southern  neighbors.  It  has  a  feel- 
in  <x  of  irritation  with  too  much  federal  dictation,  and 
frets  under  the  still  somewhat  undefined  relations  of 
power  between  the  federal  and  the  provincial  gov- 
ernments, as  was  seen  in  the  railway  conflict.  15esidcs, 
the  natural  exchange  of  i)roducts  between  south  and 
north  —  between  the  lower  INIississippi  and  the  Red 
River  of  the  North  and  the  noi*th-west  prairies  —  is 
going  to  increase;  the  north  and  south  railway  lines 
will  have,  with  the  development  of  industries  and  ex- 
change of  various  sorts,  a  growing  importance  com- 
pared with  the  great  east  and  west  lines.  Nothing 
can  stop  this  exchange  and  the  need  of  it  along  our 
whole  border  west  ol"  Lake  Superior,     It  is  already 


Commenia  on  Canada. 


431) 


)    \> 


active  and  growing,  oven  on  the  Pacific,  between 
Washington  Territory  and  British  Cohimbia. 

For  these  geogra})hical  reasons,  and  esj)ecially  on 
account  of  similarity  of  social  and  political  develop- 
ment, I  was  strongly  impressed  with  the  notion  that 
if  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  had  not  been  built 
when  it  was,  Manitoba  would  by  this  time  have  grav- 
itated to  the  United  States,  and  it  would  only  have 
been  a  question  of  time  when  the  remaining  North- 
west should  have  fallen  in.  The  line  of  the  road  is 
very  well  settled,  and  yellow  with  wheat  westward  to 
Regina,  but  the  farms  are  often  off  from  the  line,  as 
the  railway  sections  are  for  the  most  part  still  unoc- 
cupied; and  there  arc  many  thriving  villages:  Portage 
la  Prairie,  from  which  the  Manitoba  and  North-western 
Railway  starts  north-west,  with  a  population  of  3000; 
Brandon,  a  busy  grain  mart,  standing  on  a  rise  of 
ground  1150  feet  above  the  sea,  Avith  a  population  of 
4000  and  over ;  Qu'Appelle,  in  the  rich  valley  of  the 
river  of  that  name,  with  TOO ;  Regina,  the  capital  of 
the  North-west  Territory,  on  a  vast  plain,  with  800; 
Moosejay,  a  market-town  towards  the  western  limit  of 
the  settled  country,  with  GOO.  This  is  all  good  land, 
but  the  winters  are  severe. 

Naturally,  on  the  rail  we  saw  little  game,  except 
(lucks  and  geese  on  the  frequent  fresh-water  ponds, 
and  occasionally  coyotes  and  prairie-dogs.  But  plenty 
of  large  game  still  (.'an  be  found  farther  north.  At 
Stony  Mountain,  fifteen  miles  north  of  Winnipeg,  the 
site  of  the  Manitoba  penitentiary,  we  saw  a  team  of 
moose,  which  Colonel  Bedson,  the  superintendent, 
drives  —  fleet  animals,  going  easily  fifteen  miles  an 
hour.      They  were   captured   only  thirty- five   miles 


I*' 


i  ■ 


440 


Comments  on  Canada. 


north  of  the  prison,  where  moose  arc  abundant.  Colo- 
nel Bedson  has  the  only  large  herd  of  the  practically 
extinct  buffalo.  There  are  about  a  hundred  of  these 
uncouth  and  picturesque  animals,  which  have  a  range 
of  twenty  or  thirty  miles  over  the  plains,  and  are 
watched  by  mounted  keepers.  They  were  driven  in, 
bulls,  cows,  and  calves,  the  day  before  our.  arrival — it 
seemed  odd  that  we  could  order  up  a  herd  of  buffa- 
loes by  telephone,  but  we  did — and  we  saw  the  whole 
troop  lumbering  over  the  prairie,  exactly  as  we  were 
familiar  with  them  in  pictures.  The  colonel  is  trying 
the  experiment  of  crossing  them  with  common  cattle. 
The  result  is  a  half-breed  of  large  size,  with  heavier 
hind-quarters  and  less  hump  than  the  buffalo,  and  said 
to  be  good  beef.  The  penitentiary  has  taken  in  all 
the  convicts  of  the  North-Avest  Territory,  and  there 
were  only  sixty-five  of  them.  The  institution  is  a 
model  one  in  its  management.  We  were  shown  two 
separate  chapels — one  for  Catholics  and  another  for 
Protestants. 

All  along  the  line  settlers  are  sifting  in,  and  there 
are  everywhere  signs  of  promoted  immigration.  Not 
only  is  Canada  making  every  effort  to  fill  up  its  lands, 
but  England  is  interested  in  relieving  itself  of  trouble- 
some people.  The  experiment  has  been  tried  of  bring- 
ing out  East-Londoners.  These  barbarians  of  civiliza- 
tion  are  about  as  unfitted  for  colonists  as  can  be. 
Small  bodies  of  them  have  been  aided  to  make  settle- 
ments, but  the  trial  is  not  very  encouraging  ;  very 
few  of  them  take  to  the  new  life.  The  Scotch  croft- 
ers do  better.  'hey  are  accustomed  to  labor  and 
thrift,  and  are  not  a  bad  addition  to  the  population. 
A  company  under  the  management  of  Sir  John  Lister 


Comments  on  Canada. 


441 


Kaye  is  making  a  larger  experiment.  It  has  received 
sections  from  the  Government  and  bought  contigu- 
ous sections  from  the  railway,  so  as  to  have  large 
blocks  of  land  on  the  road.  A  dozen  settlements  are 
projected.  The  company  brings  over  laborers  and 
farmers,  paying  their  expenses  and  wages  for  a  year. 
A  large  central  house  is  built  on  each  block,  tools  and 
cattle  are  supplied,  and  the  men  are  to  begin  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  soil.  At  the  end  of  a  year  they  may, 
if  they  choose,  take  up  adjacent  free  Government  land 
and  begin  to  make  homes  for  themselves,  working 
meantime  on  the  company  land,  if  they  will.  By  tliis 
plan  they  are  guaranteed  support  for  a  year  at  least, 
and  a  chance  to  set  up  for  themselves.  The  company 
secures  the  breaking  up  of  its  land  and  a  crop,  and  the 
nucleus  of  a  town.  The  further  plan  is  to  encourage 
farmers,  with  a  capital  of  a  thousand  dollars,  to  fol- 
low and  settle  in  the  neighborhood.  There  will  then 
be  three  ranks — the  large  company  proprietors,  the 
farmers  with  some  capital,  and  the  laborers  who  are 
earning  their  capital.  We  saw  some  of  these  settle- 
ments on  the  line  that  looked  promising.  About  150 
settlers,  mostly  men,  arrived  last  fall,  and  with  them 
were  sent  out  English  tools  and  English  cattle.  The 
plan  looks  to  making  model  communities,  on  some- 
thing of  the  old-world  plan  of  proprietor,  farmer,  and 
laborer.     ll  would  not  work  in  the  United  States. 

Another  im[)ortant  colonization  is  that  of  Iceland- 
ers. These  are  settled  to  the  north-east  of  AVinnipeg 
and  in  southern  Manitoba.  About  10,000  have  al- 
ready come  over,  and  the  movement  has  assumed  such 
large  proportions  that  it  threatens  to  depopulate  Ice- 
land.    This  is  good  and  intelligent  material.     Climate 


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442 


Comments  on  Canada. 


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and  soil  are  so  superior  to  that  of  Iceland  that  the 
emigrants  are  Avell  content.  They  make  good  farmers, 
but  they  are  not  so  clannish  as  the  Mennonites;  many 
of  them  scatter  about  in  the  towns  as  laborers. 

Before  we  reached  Medicine  Ilat,  and  beyond  that 
place,  we  passed  through  considerable  alkaline  country 
— little  dried-up  lakes  looking  like  patches  of  snow. 
There  was  an  idea  that  this  land  was  not  fertile,  The 
Canadian  Pacific  Company  have  been  making  several 
experiments  on  the  line  of  model  farms,  which  prove 
the  contrary.  As  soon  as  the  land  is  broken  up  and 
the  crust  turned  under,  the  soil  becomes  very  fertile, 
and  produces  excellent  crops  ofAvheat  and  vegetables. 

Medicine  Hat,  on  a  branch  of  the  South  Saskatche- 
wan, is  a  thriving  town.  Here  are  a  station  and  bar- 
racks of  the  Mounted  Police,  a  picturesque  body  of 
civil  cavalry  in  blue  pantaloons  and  red  jackets.  This 
body  of  picked  men,  numbering  about  a  tliousand,  and 
similar  in  functions  to  the  Gnarda  Ch'il  of  Spain,  art- 
scattered  through  the  Xorth-west  Territory,  and  are  the 
Dominion  police  for  keeping  in  order  the  Indians,  and 
settling  disputes  between  the  Indians  and  whites.  The 
sergeants  have  powers  of  police-justices,  and  the  or- 
ganization is  altogether  an  admirable  one  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  has  a  fine  esjirit  de  corps. 

Here  we  saw  many  Cree  Indians,  physically  a  cred- 
itable-looking race  of  men  and  women,  and  picturesque 
in  their  gay  blankets  and  red  and  yellow  paint  daubed 
on  the  skin  without  the  least  attempt  at  shading  or 
artistic  effect.  A  fair  was  going  on,  an  exhibition 
of  horses,  cattle,  and  vegetable  and  cereal  products  of 
the  region.  The  vegetables  were  large  and  of  good 
quality.     Delicate  flowers  were  still  blooming  (Sep- 


u 


Comments  on  Canada. 


443 


tember  28th)  untouched  by  frost  in  tlie  gardens.  These 
(-rees  are  not  on  a  reservation.  They  cultivate  the 
soil  u  little,  but  mainly  support  themselves  by  gather- 
ing r.nd  selling  buffalo  bones,  and  well  set-up  and  pol- 
ished horns  of  cattle,  which  they  swear  are  buffalo. 
The  women  are  far  from  a  degraded  race  in  appear- 
ance, have  good  heads,  high  foreheads,  and  are  well- 
favored.  As  to  morals,  they  are  reputed  not  to  equal 
the  Blackfeet. 

The  same  day  we  reached  Gleichen,  about  2500 
feet  above  the  sea.  The  land  is  rolling,  and  all  good 
for  grazing  and  the  plough.  This  region  gets  the 
"Chinook"  wind.  Ploughing  is  begun  in  April, 
sometimes  in  March;  in  1888  they  ploughed  in  Janu- 
ary. Flurries  of  snow  may  be  expected  any  time  after 
October  1st,  but  frost  is  not  so  early  as  in  eastern 
Canada.  A  fine  autumn  is  common,  and  fine,  mild 
weather  may  continue  up  to  December.  At  J)un- 
more,  the  station  before  Medicine  Hat,  we  passed  a 
branch  railway  running  west  to  the  great  Letlibridge 
coal-mines,  and  Dunmore  Station  is  a  largo  coal  depot. 

The  morning  at  Gleichen  was  si)lendid  ;  cool  at 
sunrise,  but  no  frost.  Here  we  had  our  first  view  of 
the  Rockies,  a  long  range  of  snow-peaks  on  the  hori- 
zon, 120  miles  distant.  There  is  an  immense  fascina- 
tion in  this  rolling  country,  the  exhilarating  air,  and 
the  magnificent  mountains  in  the  distance.  Here  is 
the  bcGrinnino:  of  a  reservation  of  the  IJlackfeet,  near 
3000.  They  live  here  on  the  Bow  River,  and  culti- 
vate the  soil  to  a  considerable  extent,  and  have  the 
benefit  of  a  mission  and  two  schools.  They  are  the 
best-looking  race  of  Indians  we  have  seen,  and  have 
most  self-respect. 


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444 


Comments  on  Canada. 


W 


We  went  over  a  rolling  country  to  Calgary,  at  an 
altitude  of  3.388  feet,  a  place  of  some  3000  inhabitants, 
and  of  the  most  distinction  of  all  between  Brandon 
and  Vancouver.  On  the  way  we  passed  two  stations 
where  natural  gas  was  used,  the  boring  for  which  was 
only  about  600  feet.  The  country  is  underlaid  with  coal. 
Calgary  is  delightfully  situated  at  the  junction  of  the 
Bow  and  Elbow  rivers,  rapid  streams  as  clear  as  crys- 
tal, with  a  greenish  hue,  on  a  small  })lateau,  surround- 
ed by  low  hills  and  overlooked  by  the  still  distant 
snow-peaks.  The  town  has  many  good  shops,  several 
churches,  two  newspapers,  and  many  fanciful  cottages. 
We  drove  several  miles  out  on  the  McCloud  trail,  up 
a  lovely  valley,  with  good  farms,  growing  wheat  and 
oats,  and  the  splendid  mountains  in  the  distance.  The 
day  was  sui>erb,  the  thermometer  marking  70°.  This 
is,  however,  a  ranch  country,  wheat  being  an  uncertain 
crop,  owing  to  summer  frosts.  But  sonic  years,  like 
1888,  are  good  for  all  grains  and  vegetables.  A  few 
Sarcee  Indians  were  loafing  about  here,  inferior  sav- 
ages. Much  better  are  the  Stony  Indians,  who  are 
settled  and  work  the  soil  beyond  Calgary,  and  are 
very  well  cared  for  by  a  Protestant  mission. 

Some  of  the  Indian  tribes  of  Canada  are  self-su])- 
porting.  This  is  true  of  many  of  the  Siwash  and  oth- 
er west  coast  tribes,  who  live  by  fishing.  At  Lytton, 
on  the  upper  Fraser,  I  saw  a  village  of  the  Siwash 
civilized  enough  to  live  in  houses,  wear  our  dress,  and 
earn  their  living  by  working  on  the  railway,  fishing, 
etc.  The  Indians  have  done  a  good  deal  of  work  on 
the  railway,  and  many  of  them  are  still  employed  on 
it.  The  coast  Indians  are  a  different  race  from  the 
plains  Indians,  and  have  a  marked  resemblance  to  the 


Com^nents  on  Canada. 


445 


Chinese  and  Jai)anese.  The  polislied  carvings  in 
black  slate  of  the  Ilaida  Indians  bear  a  striking  re- 
semblance to  archaic  Mexican  work,  and  strengthen 
the  theory  that  the  coast  Indians  crossed  the  straits 
from  Asia,  are  related  to  the  early  occupiers  of  Ari- 
zona and  Mexico,  and  ought  not  to  be  classed  with 
the  North  American  Indian.  The  Dominion  has  done 
very  Avell  by  its  Indians,  of  whom  it  has  probably  a 
hundred  thousand.  It  has  tried  to  civilize  them  by 
means  of  schools,  missions,  and  farm  instructors,  and 
it  has  been  pretty  successful  in  keeping  ardent  spirits 
away  from  them.  A  large  proportion  of  them  are 
still  fed  and  clothed  by  the  Government.  It  is  doubt- 
ful if  the  plains  Indians  will  ever  be  industrious.  The 
Indian  fund  from  the  sale  of  their  lands  has  accumu- 
lated to  $3,000,000.  There  are  140  teachers  and  4000 
pupils  i  school.  In  1885  the  total  expenditure  on 
the  Indian  population,  beyond  that  provided  by  the 
Indian  fund,  was  $1,109,004,  of  which  8478,038  was 
expended  for  provisions  for  destitute  Indians. 

At  Cochrane's  we  were  getting  well  into  tiie  hills. 
Here  is  a  large  horse  and  sheep  ranch  and  a  very  ex- 
tensive ranfje.  North  and  south  alono;  the  foot-hills 
is  fine  grazing  and  ranging  country.  We  enter  the 
mountains  by  the  Bow  River  Valley,  and  plunge  at 
once  into  splendid  scenery,  barc^  mountains  rising  on 
both  sides  in  sharp,  varied,  and  fantastic  peaks,  snow- 
dusted,  and  in  lateral  openings  assemblages  of  giant 
summits  of  rock  and  ice.  The  chanore  from  the  rollint; 
prairie  was  magical.  At  Mountain  House  the  Three 
•Sisters  were  very  impressive.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
we  came  to  Banff. 

Banff  will  have  a  unique  reputation  among  the  re- 


(':| 


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44C 


Comments  on  Canada. 


x'4 


\ 


sorts  of  tlio  world.  If  a  judicious  plan  is  formed  and 
adhered  to  for  tlio  development  of  its  extraordinary 
beauties  and  grandeur,  it  will  be  second  to  few  in  at- 
tractions. A  considerable  tract  of  wilderness  about 
it  is  reserved  as  a  National  Park,  and  the  whole  ought 
to  bo  developed  by  some  master  landscape  expert.  It 
is  in  the  power  of  the  Government  and  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Company  to  so  manage  its  already  famous 
curative  hot  sulphur  sj>rings  as  to  make  Banff  the  re- 
sort of  invalids  as  well  as  j)leasure-seekers  the  year 
round.  This  is  to  be  done  not  simply  by  established 
good  bathing-places,  but  by  regulations  and  restric- 
tions such  as  give  to  the  German  baths  their  virtue. 

The  Danff  Hotel,  unsurpassed  in  situation,  amid 
magnilicent  mountains,  is  large,  picturesque,  many 
gabled  and  windowed,  and  thoroughly  comfortable. 
It  looks  down  upon  the  meeting  of  the  Bow  and  the 
Spray,  which  spread  in  a  pretty  valley  closed  by  a 
range  of  snow-peaks.  To  right  and  left  rise  mount- 
ains of  savage  rock  ten  thousand  feet  high.  The 
whole  scene  has  all  the  elements  of  beauty  and  gran- 
deur. The  place  is  attractive  for  its  climate,  its  baths, 
and  excellent  hunting  and  fishing. 

For  two  days,  travelling  only  by  day,  passing  the 
Rockies,  the  Selkirks,  and  the  Gold  range,  we  were 
kept  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement,  in  a  constant  ex- 
clamation of  wonder  and  delight.  I  would  advise  no 
one  to  attempt  to  take  it  in  the  time  we  did.  Xobody 
could  sit  through  Beethoven's  nine  symphonies  plaj'^ed 
continuously.  I  have  no  doubt  that  when  carriage-roads 
and  foot-paths  are  made  into  the  mountain  recesses, 
as  they  Avill  be,  and  little  hotels  are  established  in  the 
valleys  and  in  the  passes  and  advantageous  sites,  as  in 


*.. 


Commenta  on  Canada. 


44' 


Svvitzerland,  I  his  region  will  rival  the  Alpine  resorts. 
I  can  speak  of  two  or  three  things  only. 

The  highest  point  on  the  line  is  the  station  at  i\[ount 
Stephen,  529()  feet  above  the  sea.  The  nionntain,  a 
bald  mass  of  rock  in  a  rounded  cone,  rises  about  8000 
feet  above  this.  As  we  moved  away  from  it  the  mount- 
ain Avas  hidden  by  a  huge  wooded  intervening  mount- 
ain. The  train  was  speeding  rapidly  on  the  down 
grade,  carrying  us  away  from  the  base,  and  we  stood 
upon  the  rear  platform  watching  the  apparent  reces- 
sion of  the  great  mass,  when  suddeidy,  and  yet  de- 
liberately, the  vast  white  bulk  of  Mount  Stephen  began 
to  rise  over  the  intervening  summit  in  the  blue  sk}-, 
lifting  itself  up  by  a  steady  motion  while  one  could 
count  twenty,  until  its  magnificence  stood  revealed. 
It  was  like  a  transformation  in  a  theatre,  only  the  cur- 
tain here  was  lowered  instead  of  raised.  The  surprise 
was  almost  too  much  for  the  nerves;  the  whole  com- 
pany was  awe-stricken.  It  is  too  much  to  say  that 
the  mountain  "shot  up;"  it  rose  with  conscious  gran- 
deur and  power.  The  effect,  of  course,  depends  much 
upon  the  speed  of  the  train.  I  have  never  seen  any- 
thing to  com])are  with  it  for  awakening  the  emotion 
of  surprise  and  wonder. 

The  station  of  Field,  just  beyond  ^fount  Stephen, 
where  there  is  a  charming  hotel,  is  in  the  midst  of 
wonderful  mountain  and  glacier  scenerv,  and  would  be 
a  delightful  place  for  rest.  From  there  the  descent 
down  the  caiion  of  Kickinghorsc  River,  along  the  edge 
of  precipices,  among  the  snow-monarchs,  is  very  ex- 
citing. At  Golden  we  come  to  the  valley  of  the  Co- 
lumbia River  and  in  view  of  the  Selkirks.  The  river 
is  navigable  about  a  hundred  miles  above  Golden,  and 


H: 


'II 


) 


I ' 


!iJ_ 


448 


Comments  on  Canada. 


tlii8  is  the  way  to  the  mining  district  of  tlie  Kootenay 
Valley.  The  region  abounds  in  gold  and  silvtr.  The 
broad  Columbia  runs  north  here  until  it  breaks  through 
the  Sclkirks,  and  then  turns  southward  on  the  west 
side  of  that  range. 

The  railway  follows  down  the  river,  between  the 
splendid  ranges  of  the  Selkirks  and  the  Rockies,  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Beaver,  and  then  ascends  its  narrow  gorge. 
I  am  not  sure  but  that  the  scenery  of  the  Selkirks  is 
finer  than  that  of  the  Rockies.  One  is  bewildered  by 
tho  illimital)le  noble  snow-peaks  and  great  glaciers. 
At  Glacier  House  is  another  excellent  hotel.  In  sav- 
age grandeur,  nobility  of  mountain -peaks,  snow-ranges, 
and  extent  of  glacier  it  rivals  anything  in  Switzerland. 
The  glacier,  only  one  arm  of  which  is  seen  from  the 
road,  is,  I  believe,  larger  than  any  in  Switzerland. 
There  are  some  thirteen  miles  of  flowing  ice;  but  the 
monster  lies  up  in  the  mountains,  like  a  great  octopus, 
Avith  many  giant  arms.  The  branch  which  we  saw, 
overlooked  by  the  striking  snow-cone  of  Sir  Donald, 
some  two  and  a  half  miles  from  the  hotel,  is  immense 
in  thickness  and  breadth,  and  seems  to  pour  out  of  the 
skv.  Recent  measurements  show  that  it  is  movinsj  at 
the  rate  of  twenty  inches  in  twenty-four  hours — about 
the  rate  of  progress  of  the  Mer  de  Glace.  In  the  midst 
of  the  main  body,  higher  up,  is  an  isolated  mountain 
of  pure  ice  three  hundred  feet  high  and  nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  in  length.  These  mountains  are  the  home 
of  the  mountain  sheep. 

From  this  amphitheatre  of  giant  peaks,  snow,  and 
glaciers  we  drop  by  marvellous  loops — wonderful  en- 
gineering, four  apparently  different  tracks  in  sight 
at  one  time — down  to  the  valley  of  the  Illicilliweat, 


Commenta  on  Canada, 


449 


tho  lower  part  of  which  iw  fcrtilo,  and  bloomin/jf  with 
irrigated  farms.  Wo  pass  a  chister  of  four  lovely 
lakes,  and  coast  around  tho  great  Shuswap  Lake,  which 
is  fifty  miles  long.  But  the  traveller  is  not  out  of  ex- 
citement. The  ride  down  the  Thompson  and  Fraser 
canons  is  as  amazing  almost  as  anything  on  the  line. 
At  Spence's  Bridge  we  come  to  the  old  Government 
road  to  tho  Cariboo  gold-mines,  three  hundred  miles 
above.  This  region  has  been  for  a  Ion;;  time  a  scene 
of  activity  in  mining  and  salmon-fishing.  It  may  be 
said  generally  of  the  Coast  or  Gold  range  that  its 
riches  have  yet  to  be  developed.  The  villages  all 
along  these  mountain  slopes  and  valleys  are  waiting 
for  this  development. 

The  city  of  Vancouver,  only  two  years  old  since 
the  beginnings  of  a  town  were  devoured  by  fire,  is 
already  an  interesting  place  of  seven  to  eight  thousand 
inhabitants,  fast  building  up,  and  with  many  substan- 
tial granite  and  brick  buildings,  and  spreading  over  a 
large  area.  It  lies  upon  a  high  point  of  land  between 
Burrard  Inlet  on  the  north  and  the  north  arm  of  the 
Fraser  River.  The  inner  harbor  is  deep  and  spacious. 
Burrard  Inlet  entrance  is  narrow  but  deep,  and  opens 
into  English  Bay,  which  opens  into  Georgia  Sound, 
that  separates  the  island  of  Vancouver,  three  hundred 
miles  lonu,  from  the  main-land.  The  round  headland 
south  of  the  entrance  is  set  apart  for  a  i)ublic  park, 
called  now  Stanley  Park,  and  is  being  improved  with 
excellent  driving-roads,  which  give  charming  views. 
It  is  a  tangled  wilderness  of  nearly  one  thousand  acres. 
So  dense  is  the  undergrowth,  in  this  moist  air,  of  vines, 
ferns,  and  small  shrubs,  that  it  looks  like  a  tropical 
thicket.  But  in  the  midst  of  it  are  gigantic  Douglas 
29 


i  i 


1;  i 


I 


450 


Comments  on  Canada. 


iu. 


firs  and  a  few  noble  cedars.  One  veteran  cedar,  part- 
ly decayed  at  the  top,  measured  fifty-six  feet  in  cir- 
cumference, and  another,  in  full  vigor  and  of  gigantic 
height,  over  thirty-nine  feet.  The  hotel  of  the  Cana- 
dian Pacific  Company,  a  beautiful  building  in  modem 
style,  is,  in  point  of  comfort,  elegance  of  appointment, 
abundant  table,  and  service,  not  excelled  by  any  in 
Canada,  equalled  by  few  anywhere. 

Vancouver  would  be  a  very  busy  and  promising  ci(y 
merely  as  the  railway  terminus  and  the  shipping-point 
for  Japan  and  China  and  the  cast  generally.  But  it 
has  other  resources  of  growth.  There  is  a  very  gooil 
country  back  of  it,  and  south  of  it  all  the  way  nito 
Washington  Territory.  Xcw  Westminster,  twelve 
miles  south,  is  a  place  of  importance  for  fish  and  lum- 
ber. The  immensely  fertile  alluvial  bottoms  of  the 
Fraser,  which  now  overflows  its  banks,  will  some  day 
be  diked,  and  become  exceedingly  valuable.  Its  rela- 
tions to  Washington  Territory  are  already  close.  The 
very  thrivinc:  city  of  Seattle,  havlno-  a  disagreement 
with  the  North  Pacific  and  its  rival,  Tacoma,  sends 
and  receives  most  of  its  'reight  and  passengers  vi<i 
Vancouver,  and  is  already  pushing  forward  a  railway 
to  that  point.  It  is  also  building  to  Spokane  Falls, 
expecting  some  time  to  be  met  by  an  extension  of  the 
St.  Paul,  Minneapolis,  and  Manitoba  from  the  Great 
Falls  of  the  Missouri.  I  found  that  manv  of  the  emi- 
grants  in  the  loaded  trains  that  we  travelled  with  or 
that  passed  us  were  bound  to  Washington  Territory. 
It  is  an  acknowledged  fact  that  there  is  a  constant 
"leakage"  of  emigrants,  who  had  apparently  ])romised 
to  tarry  in  Canada,  into  United  States  territories. 
Some  of  them,  disappointed  of  the  easy  wealth  ox 


Comments  on  Canada. 


451 


pected,  no  doubt  return;  but  the  name  of  "republic" 
seems  to  have  an  attraction  for  Old  World  people 
when  they  are  once  set  adrift. 

We  took  steamer  one  afternoon  for  a  five  hours' 
sail  to  Victoria.  A  part  of  the  way  is  among  beauti- 
f'u  wooded  islands.  Once  out  in  the  open,  Ave  had  a 
view  of  our  "  native  land,"  and  prominent  in  it  the  dim, 
cloud-like,  o^i^antic  i)eak  of  Mount  IJaker.  IJefore  we 
passed  the  islands  we  were  entertained  by  a  rare  show 
of  right-whales.  A  school  of  them  a  couple  of  weeks 
before  had  come  down  through  Behring  Strait,  and  pur- 
sued a  shoal  of  fish  into  this  landlocked  bay.  There 
must  have  been  as  many  as  fifty  of  the  monsters  in 
sight,  spouting  up  slender  fountains, lifting  their  huge 
bulk  out  of  water,  and  diving,  with  their  bifurcated 
tails  waving  in  the  air.  They  jtlayed  about  like  por- 
poises, apparently  only  for  our  entertainment. 

Victoria,  so  long  isolated,  is  the  most  English  part 
of  Canada.  The  town  itself  does  not  wa'H  solidity 
and  wealth,  but  it  is  stationary,  and,  the  Canadians 
elsewhere  think,  slow.  It  was  the  dry  and  dusty  time 
of  the  year.  The  environs  are  broken  with  inlets, 
hilly  and  picturesque;  there  are  many  pretty  cottages 
and  country  places  in  the  suburbs;  and  one  visits  with 
interest  the  Eskimait  naval  station,  and  the  elevated 
Park,  which  has  a  noble  coast  view.  The  very  mild 
climate  is  favorable  for  grapes  and  apples.  The  sum- 
mer is  delightful;  the  Avinter  damji,  and  constatitly 
rainy.  And  this  may  be  said  of  all  this  coast.  Of  the 
thirteen  thousand  po])ulation  six  thousand  are  Chinese, 
and  they  form  in  the  city  a  dense,  insoluble,  unassimi- 
lating  mass.  Victoria  has  one  railway,  that  to  the  pros- 
perous Xanairao  coal-mines.    The  island  La.«  abundance 


1 


4 


452 


Comments  on  Canada. 


1^ 


f.' 


:*    , 


of  coal,  some  copper,  and  timber.  But  Vancouver  li.is 
taken  away  from  Victoria  all  its  importance  as  a  port. 
The  Government  and  Parliament  buildings  are  de- 
tached, but  pleasant  and  commodious  edifices.  There 
is  a  decorous  British  air  about  everything.  Through- 
out British  Columbia  the  judges  and  the  lawyers  wear 
the  gown  and  band  and  the  horse -hair  A\ig.  In  an 
evening  trial  for  murder  which  I  attended  in  a  dingy 
upper  chamber  of  the  Kamloo})s  court-house,  lighted 
only  by  kerosene  lamps,  the  wigs  and  gowns  of  judge 
and  attorneys  lent,  I  confess,  a  dignity  to  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice  which  the  kerosene  lamps  could  not 
have  given.  In  one  of  the  Government  buildings  is  a 
capital  museum  of  natural  history  and  geology.  The 
educational  department  is  vigorous  and  effective,  and 
I  find  in  the  bulky  report  evidence  of  most  intelligent 
management  of  the  schools. 

It  is  only  bv  traversinjjf  the  loncf  distance  to  this 
coast,  and  seeing  the  activity  here,  that  one  can  ap- 
preciate the  importance  to  Canada  and  to  the  British 
Empire  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  as  a  bond  of 
unity,  a  developer  cf  resources,  and  a  world's  highway. 
The  out-going  steamers  were  crowded  with  passengers 
and  laden  with  freigiit.  We  met  on  the  WJiVtwo  solid 
trains,  of  twenty  cars  each,  full  of  tea.  When  the  new 
swift  steamers  are  put  on,  which  are  already  heavily 
subsidized  by  both  the  English  and  the  Canadian  gov- 
ernments, the  traffic  in  passengers  and  goods  must  in- 
crease. What  effect  the  possession  of  such  a  certain  lino 
of  communication  with  her  Oriental  domains  will  have 
upon  the  English  willingness  to  surrender  Canada  ei- 
ther to  complete  independence  or  to  a  union  with  the 
United  States,  any  political  prophet  can  estimate. 


CommenU  on  Canada. 


453 


It  must  be  added  that  the  Canadian  Pacific  Com- 
pany are  doing  everything  to  make  this  higlnvay  pop- 
ular as  well  as  profitable.  Construction  and  manage- 
ment show  P^nglish  regard  for  comfort  and  safety  and 
order.  It  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  lines  to  travel 
over  I  am  acquainted  with.  Most  of  it  is  well  built, 
and  defects  are  being  energetically  removed.  The 
"Colonist"  cars  are  clean  and  convenient.  The  first 
class  carriages  are  luxurious.  The  dining-room  cars 
are  uniformly  well  kept,  the  company  hotels  are  ex- 
ceptionally excellent;  and  from  the  railway  servants 
one  meets  with  civility  and  attention. 


if 


^    'I   1 


III. 

I  HAD  been  told  that  the  Canadians  are  second-hand 
Englishmen.  No  estimate  could  convey  a  more  erro- 
neous impression.  A  portion  of  the  people  have  strong 
English  traditions  and  loyalties  to  institutions,  but  in 
manner  and  in  expectations  the  Canadians  are  scarce- 
ly more  English  than  the  people  of  the  United  States; 
they  have  their  own  colonial  development,  and  one  can 
mark  already  Avitli  tolerable  distinctness  a  Canadian 
type  which  is  neither  English  nor  American.  This  is 
noticeable  especially  in  the  women.  The  Canadian  girl 
resembles  the  American  in  escape  from  a  purely  con- 
ventional restraint  and  in  self-reliance,  and  sue  has, 
likr  the  English,  a  well-modulated  voice  and  distinct 
articulation.  In  the  cities,  also,  she  has  taste  in  dress 
and  a  certain  style  which  we  think  belongs  to  the  New 
World.  In  features  and  action  a  certain  modification 
has  gone  on,  due  partly  to  climate  and  partly  to  great- 
er social  independence.    It  is  unnecessary  to  make  com- 


454 


Comments  on  Canada. 


I 


'.IV !  k  I 
m 


:i 


^: 

1    :  , 

parisons,  and  I  only  note  that  there  is  a  Canadian  typo 
of  woman. 

But  there  is  great  variety  in  Canada,  and  in  fact  a 
remarkable  racial  diversity.  The  man  of  Nova  Scotia 
is  not  at  all  the  man  of  British  Columbia  or  Manitoba. 
The  Scotch  in  old  Canada  have  made  a  distinct  im- 
pression in  features  and  speech.  And  it  may  be  said 
generally  in  eastern  Canada  that  the  Scotch  element 
is  a  leading  and  conspicuous  one  in  the  vigor  and  push 
of  enterprise  and  the  accumulation  of  fortune.  The 
Canadian  men,  as  one  sees  them  in  official  life,  at  the 
clubs,  in  business,  are  markedly  a  vigorous,  stalwart 
race,  well  made,  of  good  stature,  and  not  seldom  hand- 
some. This  physical  prosperity  needs  to  be  remem- 
bered when  we  consider  the  rigorous  climate  and  the 
loner  winters:  these  seem  to  have  at  least  one  advan- 
laiie  —  that  of  breeding  virile  men.  The  Canadians 
generally  are  fond  of  out -door  sj)orts  and  athletic 
games,  of  fishing  and  hunting,  and  they  give  more 
time  to  such  recreations  than  we  do.  They  are  a  lit- 
Me  less  driven  by  the  business  goad.  Abundant  ani- 
mal spirits  tend  to  make  men  good-natured  and  little 
quarrelsome.  Tlie  Canadians  would  make  good  sol- 
diers. There  was  a  time  when  the  drinkinc:  haoit 
pervailed  very  much  in  Canada,  and  there  are  stii' 
places  where  they  do  not  put  water  enough  in  their 
grog,  but  temperance  reform  has  taken  as  strong  a 
hold  there  as  it  has  in  the  United  States. 

The  feeling  about  the  English  is  illustrated  by  the 
statement  that  there  is  not  more  aping  of  English  ways 
in  Montreal  and  Toronto  clubs  and  social  life  than  in 
New  York,  and  that  the  English  superciliousness,  or 
condescension  as  to  colonists,  the  ultra-English  man- 


Comments  on  Canada. 


455 


ner,  is  ridiculed  in  C:iiiad.'i,and  resented  witb  even  more 
warmth  than  in  tlie  United  States.  The  amusinf;  sto- 
ries  of  English  jjresumption  upon  hospitality  are  cur- 
rent in  C'anada  as  well  as  on  this  side.  All  this  is  not 
inconsistent  Avith  })ride  in  tlu^  empire,  loyalty  to  its 
traditions  and  institutions,  and  even  a  considerable 
willingness  (for  human  nature  is  pretty  much  alike 
everywliere)  to  accept  decorative  titles.  But  the  un- 
derlying fact  is  that  there  is  a  distinct  feeling  of  na- 
tionality, and  it  is  increasing. 

There  is  not  anywhere  so  great  a  contrast  between 
neighboring  cities  as  between  (Quebec,  ^fontreal,  and 
Toronto.  Quebec  is  medi;eval,  Toronto  is  modern, 
Montreal  is  in  a  conflict  between  the  two  conditions. 
As  the  travelling  world  knows,  they  are  all  interesting 
cities,  and  have  })eculiar  attractions.  Quebec  is  French, 
more  decidedly  so  than  Toronto  is  English,  and  in  Mon- 
treal the  French  have  a  large  numerical  majority  and 
complete  political  control.  In  the  Canadian  cities  gen- 
erally municipal  affairs  are  pretty  much  divorced  from 
general  party  ])olitics,  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  good 
city  government. 

Montreal  has  most  wealth,  and  from  its  sjdendid 
geographical  position  it  is  the  railwa}'-  centre,  and  has 
the  business  and  commercial  primacy.  It  has  grown 
rapidly  from  a  ])opulation  of  110, 000  in  1881  to  a  i)()p- 
ulation  of  over  200,000 — estimated,  with  its  suburbs, 
at  250,000.  Were  it  jiart  of  my  plan  to  describe  these 
cities,  I  should  need  much  si)ace  to  devote  to  the  lin- 
est  public  buildings  and  public  institutions  of  Mon- 
treal, the  handsome  streets  in  the  Protestant  quarter, 
witii  their  solid,  tasteful,  and  often  elegant  residences, 
the  many  churches,  and  the  almost  unequalled  posses- 


I 


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1  1 

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456 


Comments  on  Canada. 


sion  of  the  Mountain  as  a  park  and  resort,  where  one 
has  the  most  strikhig  and  varied  prospects  in  the  worhl. 
Montreal,  being  a  part  of  the  province  of  Quebec,  is 
not  only  under  ])rovincial  control  of  the  government 
at  Quebec,  but  it  is  ruled  by  the  same  French  i)arty 
in  the  city,  and  there  is  the  complaint  always  found 
where  the  poorer  majority  taxes  the  richer  and  more 
enterprising  minority  out  of  proportion  to  the  benefits 
the  latter  receives.  Various  occasions  have  ])roduced 
something  like  race  conflicts  in  the  city,  and  there  are 
prophesies  of  more  serious  ones  in  the  strife  for  ascen- 
dency. The  seriousness  of  this  to  the  minority  lies  in 
the  fact  that  the  French  race  is  more  prolific  thau  any 
other  in  the  province. 

Perhaps  nothing  will  surprise  the  visitor  more  than 
the  persistence  of  the  French  type  in  Canada,  and  nat- 
urally its  aggressiveness.  Guaranteed  their  religion, 
laws,  and  language,  the  French  have  not  only  failed  to 
assimilate,  but  have  had  ho{>es — maybe  still  have — of 
making  Canada  French.  The  French  "  national  "  par- 
ty means  simply  a  French  consolidation,  and  has  no 
relation  to  the  "  nationalism  "  of  Sir  John  Macdonald. 
So  far  as  the  Church  and  the  French  politicians  are 
concerned,  the  effort  is  to  keep  the  French  solid  as  a 
political  force,  and  Avhether  the  French  are  Liberal  or 
Conservative,  this  is  the  underlying  thought.  The 
province  of  Quebec  is  Liberal,  but  the  liberalism  is  of 
a  different  hue  from  that  of  Ontario.  The  French 
recognize  the  truth  that  language  is  so  integral  a  part 
of  a  i)eople's  growth  that  the  individuality  of  a  people 
depends  upon  maintaining  it.  The  French  have  es- 
caped absorption  in  Canada  mainly  by  loyalty  to  their 
native  tongue,  aided  by  the  concession  to  them  of  their 


Comments  on  Canada. 


45; 


civil  laws  and  their  religious  privileges.  They  owe  this 
to  William  Pitt.  I  (j[uote  from  a  contributed  essay  in 
the  Toronto  Week  about  three  years  ago:  "  Up  to  1791 
the  small  French  population  of  Canada  Avas  in  a  posi- 
tion to  be  converted  into  an  English  colony  with  traces 
of  French  sentiment  and  Ian  uru  a  life,  which  would  hav(! 
slowly  disappeared.  ]5ut  nt  that  date  William  Pitt 
the  younger  brought  into  the  House  of  Commons  two 
Quebec  Acts,Avhich  constituted  two  provinces — Lower 
Canada, with  a  full  provision  of  French  laws,  language, 
and  Institutions;  Upper  Canada,  with  a  reproduction 
of  EnGflish  laws  and  social  system.  l)uriiii>;  the  de- 
bate  Pitt  declared  on  the  floor  of  tlie  House  that  his 
purpose  was  to  create  two  colonies  distinct  from  and 
jealous  of  each  other,  so  as  to  guard  against  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  late  unhappy  rebellion  which  had  separated 
the  thirteen  colonies  from  the  empire." 

The  French  have  always  been  loval  to  the  Encjlish 
connection  under  all  temptations,  for  these  guarantees 
have  been  continued,  whicii  could  scarcely  be  expected 
from  any  other  power,  and  certainly  not  in  a  legislat- 
ive imion  of  the  Canadian  provinces.  In  literature 
and  sentiment  the  connection  is  with  France;  in  re- 
ligion, with  Rome  ;  in  politics  England  has  been  the 
guarantee  of  both.  There  will  be  no  prevailing  sen- 
timent in  favor  of  annexation  to  the  United  States  so 
long  as  the  Church  retains  its  autiiority,  nor  would  it 
bo  favored  by  the  accomplished  ])()liticians  so  long  as 
they  can  use  the  solid  French  mass  as  a  political  force. 

The  relegation  of  the  subject  of  education  entirely 
to  the  provinces  is  an  element  in  the  persistence  of  the 
French  type  in  the  province  of  Quebec,  in  the  same 
way  that  it  strengthens  the  Protestant  cause  in  On- 


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4 


hi] 


tario,  ii  tlic  province  of  QiicLec  all  the  public  schools 
are  llonian  Catholic,  and  the  sej)arate  schools  are  of 
other  sects.  In  the  council  of  public  instruction  the 
Catholics,  of  course,  have  a  large  majority,  but  the 
l)ublic  schools  are  nianagetl  by  a  Catholic  committee 
and  the  others  by  a  Protestant  committee.  In  the 
academies,  model  aiul  high  schools,  subsidized  by  the 
Government,  those  haviufj  Protestant  teachers  are  in- 
signiticant  in  number,  and  there  are  very  few  Prot- 
estants in  t*atholic  schools,  and  very  few  Catholics  in 
Protestant  schools;  the  same  is  true  of  the  schools  of 
this  class  not  subsidized,  Tlie  bulky  report  of  the 
superintendent  of  })ublic  instruction  of  the  province 
of  Quebec  (which  is  translated  into  English)  shows  a 
vigorous  and  intelligent  attention  to  education.  The 
general  statistics  give  the  number  of  pupils  in  the 
province  as  210,403  Roman  Catholics  (the  term  always 
used  in  the  report)  and  157, 484  Protestants.  In  the 
elementarv  schools  there  are  143,848  Roman  Catholics 
and  30,40  i  Protestants.  Of  the  ecclesiastical  teachers, 
808  are  Roman  Catholics  and  8  Protestants;  of  the 
certificated  lay  teachers,  250  are  Roman  Catholic  and 
105  Protestant;  the  j)roportion  of  schools  is  four  to 
one.  It  must  be  kept  in  mind  that  in  the  French 
schools  it  is  French  literature  that  is  cultivated.  In 
the  Laval  University,  at  Quebec,  English  literature  is 
as  purely  an  ornamental  study  as  French  literature 
would  be  in  Yale.  The  Laval  L^^niversity,  'which  has 
a  branch  in  Montreal,  is  a  strong  institution,  with  de- 
partments of  divinity,  laAV,  medicine,  and  the  arts,  80 
professors,  and  575  students.  The  institution  has  a 
vast  pile  of  buildings,  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  ob- 
jects in  a  view  of  the  city.     Besides  spacious  lecture, 


Comments  on  Canada. 


459 


assembly  rooms,  aiul  laboratorios,  it  has  extensive  col- 
lections in  geology,  mineralogy,  botany,  ethnology, 
zoology,  coins,  a  library  of  100,000  volumes,  in  which 
theology  is  well  represented,  but  which  contains  a 
large  collection  of  works  on  Canada,  including  valua- 
ble manuscripts,  tin;  original  MS.  of  the  Joxirmil  des 
Jesuites,  and  the  most  com})lete  set  of  the  lieUdion 
des  Jesuites  existing  in  America.  It  has  also  a  gallery 
of  paintings,  chietly  valuable  for  its  portraits. 

Of  the  b_,000  i)Opulation  of  Quebec  City,  by  the 
census  of  1881,  not  over  6000  were  Protestants.  I>y 
the  same  census  Montreal  had  140,747,  of  whom  78,084 
were  French,  and  28,990  of  Irish  origin.  The  Iloman 
Catholics  numbered  103,579.  I  believe  the  j»roportion 
has  not  much  changed  with  the  considerable  growth 
in  seven  years. 

One  is  struck,  in  looking  at  the  religious  statistics 
of  Canada,  by  the  fact  that  the  Church  of  England 
has  not  the  primacy,  and  that  the  so-calh.'d  indepen- 
dent sects  have  a  ])o,sition  they  have  not  in  England. 
In  the  total  population  of  4,324,810,  given  by  the  cen- 
sus of  1881,  the  Protestants  were  put  down  at  2,436,- 
554  and  the  Roman  Catholics  at  1,791,982.  The  larger 
of  the  Protestant  denominations  were,  Methodists, 
742,981;  Presbyterians,  676,165;  Church  of  P:ngland, 
574,818;  Baptists,  296,525.  Taking  as  a  si)ecimen  of 
the  north-west  the  i)rovince  of  Manitoba,  census  of 
1886,  we  get  these  statistics  of  the  larger  sects:  Pres- 
byterians, 28,406;  Church  of  England,  23,206;  Meth- 
odists, 18,648;  Roman  Catholics,  1-<,651;  Mennonites, 
9112;  Baptists,  3296;  Lutherans,  3131. 

Some  statistics  of  general  education  in  the  Dominion 
show  the  popular  interest  in  the  matter.     In  1885  the 


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Comments  on  Canada. 


total  numhor  of  pupils  in  the  Dominion,  in  i)nblic  and 
private  schools,  Avas  908,193,  and  the  average  attend- 
ance was  555,404.  The  total  expenditure  of  the  year, 
not  including  school  buildings,  was  89,ru 0,745,  and  the 
value  of  school  lands,  buihlings,  and  furniture  was 
$25,000,000.  Yet  in  the  province  of  Quebec,  out  of 
the  total  expenditure  of  !t?:},lG2,410,  oidy  835.3,077  was 
granted  by  the  })rovincial  Legislature.  And  in  On- 
tario, of  the  total  of  $3,904,797,  only  *20 7,084  was 
granted  by  the  Legislature. 

The  McGill  University  at  Montreal,  Sir  William 
Dawsoi.  ])rineipal,  is  a  corporation  organized  under 
royal  charter,  which  owes  its  original  endowment  of 
land  and  money  (valued  at  '$120,000)  to  James  McGill. 
It  receives  small  grants  from  tlie  provincial  and  Do- 
minion governments,  but  mainly  depends  upon  its 
own  funds,  Avhich  in  1885  stood  at  $791,000.  It  has 
numerous  endowed  professorships  and  endowments  for 
scliolarshii)S  and  })rizes;  among  them  is  the  Donalda 
Endowment  for  the  Higher  Education  of  "Women 
(from  Sir  Donald  A.  Smith),  by  which  a  special  course 
in  separate  classes,  by  University  professors,  is  main- 
tained in  the  University^  buildings  for  women.  It  has 
faculties  of  arts,  applied  sciences,  law,  and  medicine 
— the  latter  with  one  of  the  most  complete  anatomical 
museums  and  one  of  the  best  selected  lil)raries  on  the 
continent.  It  has  several  colleges  affiliated  with  it  for 
the  purpose  of  conferring  University  degrees,  a  model 
school,  and  four  theological  colleges,  a  Congregational, 
a  Presbyterian,  an  Episcopalian,  and  a  Wesleyan,  the 
students  in  which  may  supplement  their  own  courses 
in  the  University.  The  professors  and  students  wear 
the  University  cap  and  gown,  and  morning  prayers  are 


n 


Comments  on  Canada, 


4G1 


road  to  a  voluntary  attciulanee.  The  lleilputh  ^Iti- 
seuni,  of  gcoloijy,  mineralogy,  zoology,  and  ethnology, 
has  a  distinction  among  museums  not  only  for  the  size 
of  the  collection,  but  for  splendid  arrangement  and 
classification.  The  well-selected  library  numbers  about 
30,000  volumes.  Tiic  -whole  University  is  a  vigorous 
educational  centre,  and  its  well-})lanted  grounds  and 
fine  buildings  are  an  ornament  to  the  city. 

Keturning  to  the  French  element,  its  infiuence  is 
not  only  felt  in  the  province  of  (Quebec,  but  in  the 
Dominion.  The  laws  of  the  Dominion  and  the  ])ro- 
ceedings  are  published  in  French  and  English  ;  the 
debates  in  the  Dominion  l*arlianient  are  conducted  in- 
differently in  both  languages,  although  it  is  observed 
that  as  the  live  years  of  any  Parliament  go  on  English 
is  more  and  more  used  by  the  members,  for  the  French 
are  more  likely  to  learn  English  than  the  English  are 
to  learn  French.  Of  course  the  (Quebec  I'arl lament  is 
even  more  distinctly  French.  And  the  j)ower  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  is  pretty  much  co-extensive 
with  the  language.  The  system  of  tithes  is  legal  in 
provincial  law,  and  tithes  can  bo  collected  of  all  Ro- 
man Catholics  by  law.  The  Church  has  also  what  is 
called  the  fabrique  system;  that  is,  a  method  of  raising 
contributions  from  any  district  for  churches,  priests' 
houses,  and  conventual  buildiijgs  and  schools.  The 
tithes  and  the  fabri({ue  assessments  make  a  lu^avy  bur- 
den on  the  peasants.  The  traveller  down  the  St.  Law- 
rence sees  how  the  interests  of  religion  are  emphasized 
in  the  large  churches  raised  in  the  midst  of  humble 
villages,  and  in  the  great  Church  establishments  of 
charity  and  instruction.  It  is  said  that  the  farmers 
attempted  to  escape  the  tithe  on  cereals  by  changing 


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Comment  on  Canada. 


to  the  cultivation  of  pease,  but  the  Church  then  decided 
that  pease  were  cereals.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
French  population  are  devout,  and  that  they  support 
the  Church  in  proportion  to  their  devotion,  and  that 
much  which  seems  to  the  Protestants  extortion  on  the 
part  of  the  Church  is  a  voluntary  contribution.  Still 
the  fact  remains  that  the  burden  is  heavy  on  land  that 
is  too  cold  for  the  highest  productiveness.  The  desire 
to  better  themselves  in  wages,  and  perhaps  to  escape 
burdens,  sends  a  great  many  French  to  New  England. 
Some  of  them  earn  money,  and  return  to  settle  in  the 
land  that  is  dear  by  tradition  and  a  thousand  associa- 
tions. Many  do  not  return,  and  I  suppose  there  are 
over  three-quarters  of  a  million  of  French  Canadians 
now  in  New  England.  They  go  to  better  themselves, 
exactly  as  New  Englanders  leave  their  homes  for  more 
productive  farms  in  the  West.  The  Church,  of  course, 
does  not  encourage  this  emigration,  but  does  encour- 
age the  acquisition  of  lands  in  Ontario  or  elsewhere 
in  Caiiada.  And  there  has  been  recently  a  marked 
increase  of  French  in  Ontario— so  marked  that  the 
French  representation  in  the  Ontario  Parliament  will 
be  increased  probably  by  three  members  in  the  next 
election.  There  are  many  people  in  Canada  who  are 
seriously  alarmed  at  this  increase  of  the  French  and 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  power.  Others  look  upon  this 
fear  as  idle,  and  say  that  immigration  is  sure  to  make 
the  Protestant  element  overwhelming.  It  is  to  be 
noted  also  that  Ontario  furnishes  Protestant  emigrants 
to  the  United  States  in  large  numbers.  It  may  be 
that  the  interchange  of  ideas  caused  by  the  French 
emigration  to  New  England  will  be  an  important 
make-weight  in  favor  of  annexation.    Individuals,  and 


Comments  on  Canada. 


463 


even  French  newspapers,  are  found  to  advocate  it. 
But  these  are  at  present  only  surface  indications.  The 
political  leaders,  the  Church,  and  the  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple are  fairly  content  with  things  as  they  arc,  and  with 
the  provincial  autonomy,  although  they  resent  federal 
vetoes,  and  still  make  a  "cry"  of  the  Riel  execution. 
The  French  element  in  Canada  may  bo  considered 
from  other  points  of  view.  The  contribution  of  ro- 
mance and  tradition  is  not  an  unimportant  one  in  any 
nation.  The  French  in  Canada  have  never  broken 
with  their  past,  as  the  French  in  France  have.  There 
is  a  groat  charm  about  Quebec — its  language,  its 
social  life,  the  military  remains  of  the  last  century. 
It  is  a  Protestant  writer  who  speaks  of  the  volume 
and  wealth  of  the  French  Canadian  literature  as  too 
little  known  to  English-speaking  Canada.  And  it  is 
true  that  literary  men  have  not  realized  the  richness 
of  the  French  material,  nor  the  work  accomplished  by 
French  writers  in  history,  poetry,  essays,  and  ro- 
mances. Quebec  itself  is  at  a  commercial  stand-still, 
but  its  uniquely  beautiful  situation,  its  history,  and 
the  projection  of  mediajvalism  into  existing  institutions 
make  it  one  of  the  most  interesting  places  to  the 
tourist  on  the  continent.  The  conspicuous,  noble,  and 
commodious  Parliament  building  is  almost  the  only 
one  of  consequence  that  speaks  of  the  modern  spirit. 
It  was  the  remark  of  a  liiglj  Church  dignitary  that  the 
object  of  the  French  in  Canada  was  the  promotion  of 
religion,  and  the  object  of  the  English,  commerce.  We 
cannot  overlook  this  attitude  against  materialism.  In 
the  French  schools  and  universities  religion  is  not 
divorced  from  education.  And  even  in  the  highest 
education,  where  modern  science  has  a  large  place, 


P 


464 


Comments  on  Canada. 


what  we  may  call  the  literary  side  is  very  much  em- 
phasized. Indeed,  the  French  students  are  rather  in- 
clined  to  rhetoric,  and  in  puhlic  life  the  French  are 
distinguished  for  the  graces  and  charm  of  oratory. 
It  may  be  true,  as  charged,  that  the  public  schools  of 
Quebec  province,  especially  in  the  country,  giving 
special  attention  to  the  interest  the  Church  regards 
as  the  highest,  do  little  to  remove  the  ignorance  of 
the  French  peasant.  It  is  our  belief  that  the  best 
Christianity  is  the  most  intelligent.  Yet  there  is 
matter  for  consideration  with  all  thoughtful  men  what 
sort  of  society  we  shall  ultimately  have  in  States 
where  the  common  schools  have  neither  religious  nor 
ethical  teaching. 

Ottawa  is  a  creation  of  the  Federal  Government  as 
distinctly  as  Washington  is.  The  lumber-mills  on  the 
Chaudiere  Falls  necessitate  a  considerable  town  here, 
for  this  industry  assumes  gigantic  proportions,  but  the 
beauty  and  attraction  of  the  city  are  due  to  the  con- 
centration here  of  political  interest.  The  situation  on 
the  bluffs  of  the  Ottawa  River  is  commanding,  and 
gives  fine  opportunity  for  architectural  display.  The 
group  of  Government  buildings  is  surpassingly  fine. 
The  Parliament  House  and  the  department  buildings 
on  three  sides  of  a  square  are  exceedingly  effective 
in  color  and  in  the  perfection  of  Gothic  details,  espe- 
cially in  the  noble  towers.  There  are  few  groups  of 
buildings  anywhere  so  pleasing  to  the  eye,  or  that  ap- 
peal more  strongly  to  one's  sense  of  dignity  and 
beauty.  The  library  attached  to  the  Parliament 
House  in  the  rear,  a  rotunda  in  form,  has  a  picturesque 
exterior,  and  the  interior  is  exceedingly  beautiful  and 
effective.    The  library,  though  mainly   for  Parlia- 


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Commenta  on  Canada. 


465 


raentary  uses,  is  rich  in  Canadian  history,  and  well  up 
in  polite  literature.  It  contains  about  90,000  volumes. 
In  the  Parliament  building,  whicli  contains  the  two 
fine  legislative  Chambers,  there  arc  residence  apart- 
ments for  the  Speakers  of  the  Senate  and  of  the  House 
of  Commons  and  their  families,  where  entertainments 
are  given  during  the  session.  The  opening  of  Par- 
liament is  an  imposing  and  brilliant  occasion,  graced 
by  the  presence  of  the  Governor-general,  who  is  sup- 
posed to  visit  the  Chambers  at  no  other  time  in  the 
session.  Ottawa  is  very  gay  during  the  session,  society 
and  politics  mingling  as  in  London,  and  the  English 
habit  of  night  sessions  adds  a  good  deal  to  the  excite- 
ment and  brilliancy  of  the  Parliamentary  proceedings. 
The  growth  of  the  Government  business  and  of 
official  life  has  made  necessary  the  addition  of  a  third 
department  building,  and  the  new  one,  departing 
from  the  Gothic  style,  is  very  solid  and  tasteful. 
There  are  thirteen  members  of  the  Privy  Council 
with  portfolios,  and  the  volume  of  public  business 
is  attested  by  the  increase  of  department  officials. 
I  believe  there  are  about  1500  men  attached  to  the 
civil  service  in  Ottawa.  It  will  be  seen  at  once 
that  the  Federal  Government,  which  seemed  in  a 
manner  superimposed  upon  the  provincial  govern- 
ments, has  taken  on  large  proportions,  and  that  there 
is  in  Ottawa  and  throughout  the  Dominion  in  federal 
officials  and  offices  a  strengthening  vested  interest  in 
the  continuance  of  the  present  form  of  government. 
The  capital  itself,  with  its  investment  in  buildings, 
is  a  conservator  of  the  state  of  things  as  they  are. 
The  Cabinet  has  many  able  men,  men  who  would 
take  a  leading  rank  as  parliamentarians  in  the  Eng- 
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Comments  on  Canada. 


lish  Commons,  and  the  Opposition  benches  in  the 
House  furnish  a  good  quota  of  the  same  material. 
The  power  of  the  premier  is  a  fact  as  recognizable  as 
in  England.  For  many  years  Sir  John  A.  Macdonald 
has  been  virtually  the  ruler  of  Canada.  lie  has  had 
the  ability  and  skill  to  keep  his  party  in  power,  while 
all  the  provinces  have  remained  or  become  Liberal.  I 
believe  his  continuance  is  due  to  his  devotion  to  the 
national  idea,  to  the  development  of  the  country,  to 
bold  measures — like  the  urgency  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  construction — for  binding  the  prov- 
inces together  and  promoting  commercial  activity. 
Canada  is  proud  of  this,  even  while  it  counts  its  debt. 
Sir  John  is  worshipped  by  his  party,  especially  by  the 
younger  men,  to  whom  he  furnishes  an  ideal,  as  a 
statesman  of  bold  conceptions  and  courage.  lie  is 
disliked  as  a  politician  as  cordially  by  the  Opposition, 
who  attribute  to  him  the  same  policy  of  adventure 
that  was  attributed  to  Beaconsfield.  Personally  he 
resembles  that  remarkable  man.  Undoubtedly  Sir 
John  adds  prudence  to  his  knowledge  of  Tien,  .and  his 
habit  of  never  crossing  a  stream  till  he  gets  to  it  has 
gained  him  the  sobriquet  of  "  Old  To-morrow. '  He 
is  a  man  of  the  world  as  well  as  a  man  of  affairs,  with 
a  wide  and  liberal  literary  taste. 

The  members  of  Government  are  well  informcu 
about  the  United  States,  and  attentive  students  of  its 
politics.  I  am  sure  that,  while  they  prefer  their  sys- 
tem of  responsible  government,  they  have  no  senti 
ment  but  friendliness  to  American  institutions  and 
people,  nor  any  expectation  that  any  differences  will 
not  be  adjusted  in  a  manner  satisfactory  and  honorable 
to  both.     I  happened  to  be  in  Canada  during  the  fish- 


Comments  on  Canada. 


467 


ery  and  "  retaliation  "  talk.     There  was  no  belief  that 
the  "  retaliation  "  thrcatenetl  was  anything  more  than 
a  campaign  measure;  it  may  have  chilled  the  rapport 
for  the  moment,  but  there  was  literally  no  excitement 
over  it,  and  the  opinion  was  general  that  retaliation  as 
to  transportation  w^ould  benefit  the  Canadian  railways. 
The  effect  of  the  moment  was  that  importers  made 
largo  foreign  orders  for  goods  to  be  sent  by  Halifax 
that  would  otherwise   have   gone   to  United  States 
ports.     The  fishery  question  is  not  one  that  can  be 
treated  in  the  space  at  our  command.     Naturally  Can- 
ada sees  it  from  its  point  of  view.     To  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  maritime  provinces  fishing  means  liveli- 
hood, and  the  view  is  that  if  the  United  States  shares 
in  it  we  ought  to  open  our  markets  to  the  Canadian 
fishermen.     Some,  indeed,  and  these  are  generally  ad- 
vocates of  freer  trade,  think  that  our  fishermen  ought 
to  have  the  right  of  entering  the  Canadian  harbors 
for  bait  and  shipment  of  their  catch,  and  think  also 
that  Canada  would  derive  an  equal  benefit  from  this; 
but  probably  the  general  feeling  is  that  these  priv- 
ileges should  be   compensated    by  a  United   States 
market.     The  defence  of  the   treaty   in   the  United 
States  Senate  debate  was  not  the  defence  of  the  Ca- 
nadian  Government  in   many  particulars.     For   in- 
stance, it  was  said  that  the  "  outrages  "  had  been  die- 
oicned  as  the  acts  of  irresponsible  men.     The  Canadian 
defence  was  that  the  "  outrages  " — that  is,  the  most 
conspicuous  of  them  which  appeared  in  the  debate — 
had  been  disproved  in  the  investigation.     Several  of 
them,  which  excited  indignation  in  the  United  States, 
were  declared  by  a  Cabinet  minister  to  have  no  founda- 
tion in  fact,  and  after  proof  of  the  falsity  of  the  allega- 


\ 


V 


468 


Comments  on  Canada. 


tions  the  complainants  were  not  again  heard  of.  Of 
course  it  is  known  that  no  arrangement  made  by  Eng- 
land can  hold  that  is  not  materially  beneficial  to  Can- 
ada and  the  United  States;  and  I  believe  I  state  the  best 
judgment  of  both  sides  that  the  whole  fishery  ques- 
tion, in  the  hands  of  sensible  representatives  of  both 
countries,  upon  ascertained  facts,  could  be  settled  be- 
tween Canada  and  the  United  States.  Is  it  not  natural 
that,  with  England  conducting  the  negotiation,  Canada 
should  appear  as  a  somewhat  irresponsible  litigating 
party  bent  on  securing  all  that  slie  can  get  ?  But 
whatever  the  legal  rights  are,  under  treaties  or  the 
law  of  nations,  I  am  sure  that  the  absurdity  of  making 
a  castta  belli  of  them  is  as  much  felt  in  Canada  as  in 
the  United  States.  And  I  believe  the  Canadians  un- 
derstand that  this  attitude  is  consistent  with  a  firm 
maintenance  of  treaty  or  other  rights  by  the  United 
States  as  it  is  by  Canada. 

The  province  of  Ontario  is  an  empire  in  itself.  It 
is  nearly  as  large  as  France;  it  is  larger  by  twenty- 
five  thousand  square  miles  than  the  combined  six  New 
England  States,  with  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  Maryland.  In  its  varied  capacities  it  is  the 
richest  province  in  Canada,  and  leaving  out  the  forests 
and  minerals  and  stony  wilderness  between  the  Cana- 
dian Pacific  and  James  Bay,  it  has  an  area  large  enough 
for  an  empire,  which  compares  favorably  in  climate 
and  fertility  with  the  most  prosperous  States  of  our 
Union.  The  climate  of  the  lake  region  is  milder  than 
that  of  southern  New  York,  and  a  considerable  part 
of  it  is  easily  productive  of  superior  grapes,  apples, 
and  other  sorts  of  fruit.  The  average  yield  of  wheat, 
per  acre,  both  fall  and  spring,  for  five  years  ending 


Comments  on  Canada. 


469 


with  1880,  was  considerably  above  that  of  our  best 
grain-producing  States,  from  Pennsylvania  to  those 
farthest  West.  The  same  is  true  of  oats.  The  compar- 
ison of  barley  is  still  more  favorable  for  Ontario,  and 
the  barley  is  of  a  superior  quality.  On  a  carefully  culti- 
vated farm  in  York  county,  for  this  period,  the  average 
was  higher  than  the  general  in  the  province,  being,  of 
wheat,  25  bushels  to  the  acre;  barley,  47  bushels;  oats, 
60  bushels;  pease,  32  bushels.  It  has  no  superior  as  a 
wool-producing  and  cattle-raising  country.  Its  wator- 
power  is  unexcelled ;  in  minerals  it  is  as  rich  as  it  is 
in  timber ;  every  part  of  it  has  been  made  accessi- 
ble to  market  by  railways  and  good  highways,  which 
have  had  liberal  Government  aid;  and  its  manufactures 
have  been  stimulated  by  a  protective  tariff.  Better 
than  all  this,  it  is  the  home  of  a  very  8U])erior  people. 
There  are  no  better  anywhere.  The  original  stock  was 
good,  the  climate  has  been  favorable,  the  athletic  habits 
have  given  them  vigor  and  tone  and  courage,  and  there 
prevails  a  robust,  healthful  moral  condition.  In  any 
company,  in  the  clubs,  in  business  houses, in  profession- 
al circles,  the  traveller  is  impressed  with  the  physical 
development  of  the  men,  and  even  on  the  streets  of 
the  chief  towns  with  the  uncommon  number  of  wom- 
en who  have  beauty  and  that  attractiveness  which 
generally  goes  with  good  taste  in  dress. 

The  original  settlers  of  Ontario  were  10,000  loyalists, 
who  left  New  England  during  and  after  our  Revolu- 
tionary "War.  They  went  to  Canada  impoverished,  but 
they  carried  there  moral  and  intellectual  qualities  of  a 
high  order,  the  product  of  the  best  civilization  of  their 
dav,  the  best  materials  for  making  a  State.  I  confess 
that  I  never  could  rid  myself  of  the  school-boy  idea 


t 

I 

r 

1 


470 


Comments  on  Catiada. 


that  the  terms  "British  redcoat"  and  "enemy"  were 
synonymous,  and  that  a  "  Tory  "  was  the  worst  charac- 
ter Providence  had  ever  permitted  to  live,  liut  these 
people,  who  were  deported,  or  went  voluntarily  away 
for  an  idea,  were  among  the  .best  material  wo  had 
in  stanch  moral  traits,  intellectual  leadership,  social 
position,  and  wealth;  their  crime  was  superior  attach- 
ment to  England,  and  utter  want  of  sympathy  with 
the  colonial  cause,  the  cause  of  "  liberty  "  of  the  hour. 
It  is  to  them,  at  any  rate,  that  Ontario  owes  its  solid 
basis  of  character,  vigor,  and  prosperity.  I  do  not 
quarrel  with  the  pride  of  their  descendants  in  the  fact 
that  their  ancestors  were  U.  E.  (United  Empire)  loy- 
alists— a  designation  that  still  has  a  vital  meaning  to 
them.  No  doubt  they  inherit  the  idea  that  the  revolt 
Mas  a  mistake,  that  the  English  connection  is  better 
as  a  form  of  government  than  the  republic,  and  some 
of  them  may  still  regard  the  "  Yankees"  as  their  Tory 
ancestors  did.  It  does  not  matter.  In  the  develop- 
ment of  a  century  in  a  new  world  they  are  more  like 
us  than  they  arc  like  the  English,  except  in  a  certain 
sentiment  and  in  traditions,  and  in  adherence  to  Eng- 
lish governmental  ideas.  I  think  I  am  not  wrong  in 
saying  that  this  conservative  element  in  Ontario,  or 
this  aristocratical  element  which  believes  that  it  can 
rule  a  people  better  than  they  can  rule  themselves, 
was  for  a  long  time  an  anti-progressive  and  anti-pop- 
ular force.  They  did  not  give  up  their  power  readily — 
power,  however,  which  they  were  never  accused  of 
using  for  personal  profit  in  the  way  of  money.  But 
I  suppose  that  the  "  rule  of  the  best  "  is  only  held  to- 
day as  a  theory  under  popular  suffrage  in  a  responsi- 
ble government. 


^ 


Comments  on  Canada. 


471 


Tiic  population  of  Ontario  in  1880  was  estimated  at 
1,810,020.  For  tlio  seven  years  from  1872-79  the  gain 
was  250,782.  For  the  seven  years  from  1879-86  the 
gain  was  only  145,450.  These  fi^jfurcs,  which  I  take 
from  the  statisties  of  Mr.  Arehibahl  IJlue,  seeretary  of 
the  Ontario  Ihireau  of  Industries,  hccomo  still  more 
siijnifieant  when  we  eonsider  that  in  the  second  period 
of  seven  years  the  (Jovernment  had  sjjent  more  money 
in  developing  the  railways,  in  promoting  immigration, 
and  raised  more  money  by  the  protective  tariff  for  the 
establishing  of  industries,  than  in  the  first.  The  in- 
crease of  population  in  the  first  period  was  17^  per 
cent.;  in  the  second,  only  S^  per  cent.  ]Mr.  lilue  also 
says  that  but  for  the  accession  by  immigration  in  the 
seven  years  1879-80  the  j)opulation  of  tlu?  province 
in  1880  would  have  been  02,040  less  than  in  1879. 
The  natural  increase,  added  to  the  immigration  re- 
ported (208,000),  should  have  given  an  increase  of 
442,000.  There  was  an  increase  of  only  146,000. 
What  became  of  the  297,000?  They  did  not  go  to 
Manitoba — the  census  shows  that.  "The  lamentable 
truth  is  that  wo  are  growing  men  for  the  United 
States."  That  is,  the  province  is  at  the  cost  of  raising 
thousands  of  citizens  up  to  a  productive  age  only  to  lose 
them  by  emigration  to  the  United  States.  Compari- 
sons are  also  made  with  Ohio  and  jMichigan,  showing 
in  them  a  proporiionally  greater  increase  in  popula- 
tion, in  acres  of  land  under  production,  in  manufactured 
products,  and  in  develo])ment  of  mineral  wealth.  And 
yet  Ontario  has  as  great  natural  advantages  as  these 
neighboring  States.  The  observation  is  also  made 
that  in  the  six  years  1873-79,  a  period  of  intense  busi- 
ness stringency,  the  country  made  decidedly  greater 


>  I 


472 


Comments  on  Canada. 


progress  than  in  the  six  years  1879-85,  "a  period  of 
revival  and  boom,  a!id  vast  expenditure  of  public 
money."  The  reader  will  bear  in  mind  that  the  re- 
peal (caused  mainly  by  the  increase  of  Canadian  duties 
on  American  products)  of  the  reciprocity  treaty  in 
1800  (under  which  an  international  trade  had  grown 
to  $70,000,000  annually)  discouraged  any  annexation 
sentiment  that  may  have  existeil,  aided  the  scheme  of 
confederation,  and  seemed  greatly  to  stimulate  Cana- 
dian manufactures,  and  the  growth  of  interior  and  ex- 
terior commerce. 

We  touch  here  not  only  political  questions  active  in 
Canada,  but  economic  problems  affecting  both  Canada 
and  the  United  States.  It  is  the  criticism  of  the  Lib- 
erals upon  the  "development"  policy,  the  protective 
tariff,  the  subsidy  policy  of  the  Liberal-Conservative 
party  now  in  power,  that  a  great  show  of  activity  is 
made  without  any  real  progress  either  in  wealth  or 
population.  To  put  it  in  a  word,  the  Liberals  want  un- 
restricted trade  with  the  United  States,  with  England, 
or  with  the  world — preferably  with  the  United  States. 
If  this  caused  separation  from  England  they  would 
accept  the  consequences  Avitli  composure,  but  they  ve- 
hemently deny  that  they  in  any  way  favor  annexa- 
tion because  they  desire  free-trade.  Pointing  to  the 
more  rapid  growth  of  the  States  of  the  Union,  their 
advantage  is  said  to  consist  in  having  free  exchange 
of  commodities  with  sixty  millions  of  people,  spread 
over  a  continent. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  it  seems  plain  that  Ontario  would 
benefit  and  have  a  better  development  by  sharing  in 
this  large  circulation  and  exchange.  Would  the  State 
of  New  York  be  injured  by  the  prosperity  of  Ontario? 


Comments  on  Canada. 


473 


Is  it  not  benefited  l>y  tlio  prosperity  of  its  other  neigh- 
bor, Pennsylvania? 

Toronto  represents  Ontario.  It  is  its  monetary,  in- 
tellectual, educational  centre,  and  I  may  add  that  here, 
more  than  anywhere  else  in  Canada,  the  visitor  is  con- 
scious of  the  complicated  energy  of  a  very  vigorous 
civilization.  The  city  itself  has  grown  rapidly — an 
increase  from  86,415  in  1881  to  probably  170,000  in 
1888 — and  it  is  growing  as  rapidly  as  any  city  on  the 
continent,  according  to  the  indications  of  building, 
manufacturing,  railw.ay  building,  and  the  visible  stir 
of  enterprise.  It  is  a  very  handsome  and  agreeable 
city,  pleasant  for  one  reason,  because  it  covers  a  large 
area,  and  gives  space  for  the  display  of  its  fine  build- 
ings. I  noticed  especially  the  effect  of  noble  churches, 
occupying  a  square — ample  grounds  that  give  dignity 
to  the  house  of  God.  It  extends  along  the  lake  about 
six  miles,  and  runs  back  about  as  far,  laid  out  with 
regularity,  and  with  the  general  effect  of  being  level, 
but  the  outskirts  have  a  good  deal  of  irregularity  and 
picturesqueness.  It  has  many  broad,  handsome  streets 
and  several  fine  parks;  High  Park  on  the  west  is  ex- 
tensive, the  University  grounds  (or  Queen's  Park)  arc 
beautiful — the  new  and  imposing  Parliament  Build- 
ings are  being  erected  in  a  part  of  its  domain  ceded 
for  the  purpose;  and  the  Island  Park,  the  irregular 
gtrin  of  an  island  lying  in  front  of  the  city,  suggests 
the  Lido  of  Venice.  I  cannot  pause  upon  details,  but 
the  town  has  an  air  of  elegance,  of  solidity,  of  pros- 
perity. The  well-filled  streets  present  an  aspect  of 
great  business  animation,  which  is  seen  also  in  the 
shops,  the  newspapers,  the  clubs.  It  is  a  place  of 
social  activity  as  well,  of  animation,  of  hospitality. 


i: 


III 


4U 


Comments  on  Canada. 


There  are  a  few  delightful  old  houses,  Avhich  date 
back  to  the  New  England  loyalists,  and  give  a  certain 
flavor  to  the  town. 

If  I  wore  to  make  an  accurate  picture  of  Toronto  it 
would  appear  as  one  of  the  most  orderly,  well-gov- 
erned, moral,  highly  civilized  towns  on  the  continent 
— in  fact,  almost  unique  in  the  active  elements  of  a 
high  Christian  civilization.  The  notable  fact  is  that 
the  concentration  hereof  business  enterprise  is  equalled 
by  the  concentration  of  religious  and  educational  ac- 
tivity. 

The  Christian  religion  is  fundamental  in  the  edu- 
cational system.  In  this  province  the  public  schools 
are  Protestant,  the  separate  schools  Roman  Catholic, 
and  the  ]5ible  has  never  been  driven  from  the  schools. 
The  result  as  to  positive  and  not  passive  religious  in- 
struction has  not  been  arrived  at  without  agitation. 
The  mandatory  regulations  of  the  provincial  Assem- 
bly are  these  :  Every  public  and  high  school  shall  be 
o'lened  daily  with  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  closed  with 
the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
or  the  prayer  authorized  by  the  Department  of  Edu- 
cation. The  Scriptures  shall  be  read  daily  and  sys- 
tematically, without  comment  or  exjilanation.  No 
pupil  shall  be  required  to  take  part  in  any  religious 
exercise  objected  to  by  parent  or  guardian,  and  an  in- 
terval is  given  for  children  of  Roman  Catholics  to 
withdraw.  A  volume  of  Scripture  selections  made 
up  by  clergymen  of  the  various  denominations  or  the 
Bible  may  be  used,  in  the  discretion  of  the  trustees, 
who  may  also  order  the  repeating  of  the  ten  com- 
mandments in  the  school  at  least  once  a  week. 
Clergymen  of  any  denomination,  or  their  authorized 


Comments  on  Canada. 


475 


representatives,  shall  have  the  right  to  give  religious 
instruction  to  pupils  of  their  denomination  in  the 
school-house  at  least  once  a  week.  The  historical 
j)ortion8  of  the  Bible  are  given  with  more  fulness 
than  the  others.  Each  lesson  contains  a  continuous 
selection.  The  denominational  rights  of  the  pupils 
are  respected,  because  the  Scripture  must  be  read 
without  comment  or  explanation.  The  State  thus  dis- 
charges its  duty  without  prejudice  to  any  sect,  but 
recognizes  the  truth  that  ethical  and  religious  in- 
struction is  as  necessary  in  life  as  any  other. 

I  am  not  able  to  collate  the  statistics  to  show  the 
effect  of  this  upon  public  morals.  I  can  only  testify 
to  the  general  healthful  tone.  The  schools  of  Toronto 
are  excellent  and  comprehensive;  the  kindergarten  is 
a  part  of  the  system,  and  the  law  avoids  the  difficulty 
experienced  in  St.  Louis  about  spending  money  on 
children  under  the  school  ago  of  six  by  making  the 
kindergarten  ago  three.  There  is  also  a  school  for 
strays  and  truants,  under  private  auspices  as  yet, 
which  reinforces  the  public  schools  in  an  important 
manner,  and  an  industrial  school  of  promise,  on  the 
cottage  system,  for  neglected  boys.  The  heads  of 
educational  departments  whom  I  met  were  Christian 
men. 

I  sat  one  day  with  the  police-magistrate,  and  saw 
something  of  the  workings  of  the  Police  Department. 
The  chief  of  police  is  a  gentleman.  So  far  as  I  could 
see  there  was  a  distinct  moral  intention  in  the  admin- 
istration. There  are  special  j)olicemen  of  high  char- 
acter, with  discretionary  powers,  who  seek  to  i)revent 
crime,  to  reconcile  differences,  to  suppress  vice,  to  do 
justice  on  the  side  of  the  erring  as  well  as  on  the  side 


476 


Comments  on  Canada. 


of  the  law.  The  central  prison  (all  offenders  sentenced 
for  more  than  two  years  go  to  a  Dominion  peniten- 
tiary) is  a  well-ordered  jail,  without  any  special  re- 
formatory features.  I  cannot  even  mention  the  courts, 
the  institutions  of  charity  and  reform,  except  to  say 
that  they  all  show  vigorous  moral  action  and  senti- 
ment in  the  community. 

The  city,  though  spread  over  such  a  large  area, 
permits  no  horse-cars  to  run  on  Sunday.  There  are 
no  saloons  open  on  Sunday;  there  are  no  beer-gardens 
or  places  of  entertainment  in  the  suburbs,  and  no  Sun- 
day newspapers.  It  is  believed  that  the  effect  of  not 
running  the  cars  on  Sunday  has  been  to  scatter  excel- 
lent churches  all  over  the  city,  so  that  every  small  sec- 
tion has  good  churches.  Certainly  they  are  well  dis- 
tributed. They  are  large  and  fine  architecturally; 
they  ai'e  well  filled  on  Sunday;  the  clergymen  are 
able,  and  the  salaries  are  considered  liberal.  If  I  mav 
believe  the  reports  and  my  limited  observation,  the 
city  is  as  active  religiously  as  it  is  in  matters  of  edu- 
cation. And  I  do  not  see  that  this  interferes  with  an 
agreeable  social  life,  with  a  marked  tendency  of  the 
women  to  beauty  and  to  taste  in  dress.  The  tone  of 
public  and  private  life  impresses  a  stranger  as  excep- 
tionally good.  The  police  is  free  from  political  in- 
fluence, being  under  a  commission  of  three,  two  of 
whom  are  life  magistrates,  and  the  mayor. 

The  free-library  system  of  the  whole  province  is 
good.  Toronto  has  an  excellent  and  most  intelligently 
arranged  free  public  library  of  about  60,000  volumes. 
The  library  trustees  make  an  estimate  yearlj'-  of  the 
money  necessary,  and  this,  under  the  law,  must  be 
voted  by  the  city  council.     The  Dominion  Govern- 


< ,     I .  I 


- '  i  ;t 


I) 


Comments  on  Canada, 


477 


ment  still  imposes  a  duty  on  books  purchased  for  the 
library  outside  of  Canada. 

The  educational  work  of  Ontario  is  nobly  crowned 
by  the  University  of  Toronto,  though  it  is  in  no  sense 
a  State  institution.  It  is  well  endowed,  and  has  a  fine 
estate.  The  central  building  is  dignified  and  an  alto- 
gether noble  piece  of  architecture,  worthy  to  stand  in 
its  beautiful  park.  It  has  a  university  organization, 
with  a  college  inside  of  it,  a  school  of  practical  science, 
and  afliliated  divinity  schools  of  several  denomi- 
nations, including  the  Roman  Catholic.  There  are 
fine  museums  and  libraries,  and  it  is  altogetlier  well 
equipped  and  endowed,  and  under  the  presidency  of 
Dr.  Daniel  Wilson,  the  venerable  ethnologist,  it  is  a 
great  force  in  Canada.  The  students  and  officers 
wear  the  cap  and  gown,  and  the  establishment  has  al- 
together a  scholastic  air.  Indeed,  this  tradition  and 
equipment — which  in  a  sense  pervades  all  life  and 
politics  in  Canada — has  much  to  do  with  keeping  up 
the  British  connection.  The  conservation  of  the  past 
is  stronger  than  with  us. 

A  luindred  matters  touching  our  relations  with 
Canada  press  for  mention.  I  must  not  omit  the  labor 
organizations.  These  are  in  affiliation  with  those  in 
the  United  States,  and  most  of  them  are  international. 
The  plumbers,  the  bricklayers,  the  stone-masons  and 
stone-cutters,  the  Typograi)hical  Union,  the  Brother- 
hood of  Carpenters  and  Joiners,  the  wood-carvers,  the 
Knights  of  Labor,  arc  affiliated  ;  there  is  a  branch  of 
the  Brotherhood  of  Locomotive  Engineers  in  Canada; 
the  railway  conductors,  with  delegates  from  all  our 
States,  held  their  conference  in  Toronto  last  summer. 
The  Amalgamated  Society  of  Carpenters  and  Joiners 


\ 


478 


Comments  on  Canada. 


is  a  British  association,  with  headquarters  in  Man- 
chester, but  it  has  an  executive  committee  in  New 
York,  with  which  all  the  Canadian  and  American  so- 
cieties communicate,  and  it  sustains  a  periodical  in 
New  York.  The  Society  of  Amalgamated  Engine 
Builders  has  its  office  in  London,  but  there  is  an 
American  branch,  with  which  all  the  Canadian  socie- 
ties work  in  harmony.  The  Cigar-makers'  Union  is 
American,  but  a  strike  of  cigar-makers  in  Toronto 
was  supported  by  the  American  ;  so  with  the  plumb- 
ers. It  may  be  said  generally  that  the  societies  each 
side  the  line  will  sustain  each  other.  The  trade  or- 
ganizations are  also  taken  up  by  women,  and  these 
all  affiliate  with  the  United  States.  When  a  *'  Na- 
tional" union  affiliates  with  one  on  the  other  side,  the 
name  is  changed  to  "  International."  This  union  and 
interchange  draws  the  laborers  of  both  nations  closer 
together.  From  my  best  information,  and  notwith- 
standing the  denial  of  some  politicians,  the  Canadian 
unions  have  love  and  sympathy  for  and  with  America. 
And  this  feeling  must  be  reckoned  with  in  speaking 
of  the  tendency  to  annexation.  Tiie  present  much- 
respected  mayor  of  Toronto  is  a  trade-unionist,  and 
has  a  seat  in  the  local  parliament  as  a  Conservative; 
he  was  once  arrested  for  picketing,  or  some  such 
trade-union  performance.  I  should  not  say  that  the 
trades-unions  are  in  favor  of  annexation,  but  they  are 
not  afraid  to  discuss  it.  There  is  in  Toronto  a  society 
of  a  hundred  young  men,  the  greater  part  of  whom 
are  of  the  artisan  class,  who  meet  to  discuss  questions 
of  economy  and  politics.  One  of  their  subjects  was 
Canadian  independence.  I  am  told  that  there  is 
among  young  men  a  considerable  desire   for  inde- 


Comments  on  Canada. 


479 


pendenco,  accompanied  with  a  determination  to  be  on 
the  best  terras  with  the  United  States,  and  that  as  be- 
tween a  connection  with  Great  IJritain  and  the  United 
States,  they  -would  prfefer  ti»e  latter.  In  my  own  ob- 
servation the  determination  to  be  on  good  terms  with 
the  United  States  is  general  in  Canada;  the  desire  for 
independence  is  not. 

The  frequency  of  the  question, "  What  do  you  think 
of  the  future  of  Canada  ?"   shows  that  it  is  an  open 
question.     Undeniably  the  confederation,  which  seems 
to  me  rather  a  creation  than  a  growth,  works  very 
well,  and  under  it  Canada  has  steadily  risen  in  the 
consideration  of  the  world  and  in  the  development  of 
the  sentiment  of  nationality.     But  there  are  many 
points  unadjusted  in  the  federal  and  provincial  rela- 
tions ;  more  power  is  desired  on  one  side,  more  local 
autonomy  on  the  other.    The  federal  right  of  disallow- 
ance of  local  legislation  is  resisted.     The  stated  distri- 
bution  of  federal  money  to  the  provinces  is  an  anomaly 
which  wc  could  not  reconcile  with  the  public  si)irit  and 
dignity  of  the  States,  nor  recognize  as  a  proper  function 
of  the  Government.     The  habit  of  the  provinces  of 
asking  aid  from  the  central  government  in  emergencies, 
and  getting  it,  does  not  cultivate  self-reliance,  and 
the  grant  of  aid  by  the  Federal  Government,  in  order 
to  allay  dissatisfaction,  must  be  a  growing  embarrass- 
ment.    The  French  privileges  in  regard  to  laws,  lan- 
guage, and   religion  make  an  insoluble  core  in  the 
heart  of  the  confederacy,  and  form  a  compact  mass 
which   can  be  wielded  for  political  purposes.     This 
element,  dominant  in  the  province  of  Quebec,  is  aggress- 
ive.    I  have  read  many  alarmist  articles,  both  in  Ca- 
nadian and  English  periodicals,  as  to  the  danger  of 


480 


Comments  on  Canada. 


K 


this  to  tlie  rights  of  Protestant  communities.  I  lay- 
no  present  stress  upon  the  expression  of  tlie  belief  by 
intelligent  men  that  Protestant  communities  might 
some  time  be  driven  to  the  shelter  of  the  wider  toler- 
ation of  the  United  States.  No  doubt  much  feeling 
is  involved.  I  am  only  reporting  a  state  of  mind 
which  is  of  public  notoriety;  and  I  will  add  that  men 
equally  intelligent  say  that  all  this  fear  is  idle;  that, 
for  instance,  the  French  increase  in  Ontario  means 
nothing,  only  that  the  habitant  can  live  on  the  semi- 
sterile  Laurcntian  lands  that  others  cannot  profitably 
cultivate. 

In  estimating  the  idea  the  Canadians  have  of  their 
future  it  will  not  do  to  take  surface  iidications.  One 
can  go  to  Canada  and  get  almost  any  opinion  and 
tendency  he  is  in  search  of.  Party  spirit — though 
the  newspapers  are  in  every  way,  as  a  rule,  less  sensa- 
tional than  ours — runs  as  high  and  is  as  deeply  bitter 
as  it  is  with  us.  Motives  are  unwarrantably  attributed. 
It  is  always  to  be  remembered  that  the  Opposition 
criticises  the  party  in  power  for  a  policy  it  might  not 
essentially  change  if  it  came  in,  and  the  party  in  pow- 
er attributes  designs  to  the  Opposition  which  it  does 
not  entertain  :  as,  for  instance,  the  Opposition  party  is 
not  hostile  to  confederation  because  it  objects  to  the 
"  development  "  policy  or  to  the  increase  of  the  federal 
debt,  nor  is  it  for  annexation  because  it  may  favor 
unrestricted  trade  or  even  commercial  union.  As  a 
general  statement  it  may  be  said  that  the  Liberal-Con- 
servative party  is  a  protection  party,  a  "  development" 
party,  and  leans  to  a  stronger  federal  government; 
that  the  Liberal  party  favors  freer  trade,  would  cry 
halt  to  debt  for  the  forcing  of  development,  and  is 


t 
tj 
o| 
a] 


Comments  on  Canada. 


481 


jealous  of  provincial  rights.  Even  the  two  parties 
arc  not  exactly  homogeneous.  There  are  Conserva- 
tives who  would  like  legislative  union;  the  Liberals  of 
the  province  of  Quebec  are  of  one  sort,  the  Liberals 
of  the  province  of  Ontario  are  of  another,  ami  there 
are  Conservative-Liberals  as  well  as  Radicals. 

The  interests  of  the  maritime  proviives  are  closely 
associated  with  those  of  New  England;  popular  votes 
there  have  often  pointed  to  political  as  well  as  com- 
mercial union,  but  the  controlling  forces  are  loyal  to 
the  confederation  and  to  British  connection.  3Iani- 
toba  is  different  in  origin,  as  I  pointed  out,  and  in 
temper.  It  c  >nsiders  sharply  the  benefit  to  itself  of 
the  federal  domination.  ]My  own  impression  is  that  it 
would  vote  pretty  solidly  against  any  present  propo- 
sition of  annexation,  but  under  the  spur  of  local  griev- 
ances and  the  impatience  of  a  growth  slower  than  ex- 
pected there  is  more  or  less  annexation  talk,  and  one 
newspaper  of  a  town  of  six  thousand  people  has  advo- 
cated it.  Whether  that  is  any  more  significant  than 
the  same  course  taken  by  a  Quebec  newspaper  recent- 
ly under  local  irritation  about  disallowance  I  do  not 
know.  As  to  unrestricted  trade,  Sir  John  Tiiompson, 
the  very  able  Minister  of  Justice  in  Ottawa,  said  in  a 
.recent  speech  that  Canada  could  not  permit  her  finan- 
cial centre  to  be  shifted  to  Washington  and  her  tariff 
to  be  made  there;  and  in  this  he  not  only  touched  the 
heart  of  the  difficulty  of  an  arrangement,  but  spoke,  I 
believe,  the  prevailing  sentiment  of  Canada. 

As  to  the  future,  I  believe  the  choice  of  a  strict 
conservatism  Avould  be,  first,  the  government  as  it  is; 
second,  independence;  third,  imperial  federation:  an- 
nexation never.  But  imperial  federation  is  generally 
31 


482  ' 


Comments  on  Canada. 


regarded  as  a  wholly  impracticable  scheme.  The 
Liberal  would  choose,  first,  the  framework  as  it  is, 
with  modifications;  second,  independence,  with  freer 
trade;  third,  trust  in  Providence,  without  fear.  It 
will  be  noted  in  all  these  varieties  of  predilection  that 
separation  from  England  is  calmly  contemplated  as  a 
definite  possibility,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  would 
be  preferred  rather  than  submission  to  the  leaf^t  loss 
of  the  present  autonomy.  And  I  must  express  the 
belief  that,  underlying  all  other  thought,  unexpressed, 
or,  if  expressed,  vehemently  repudiated,  is  the  idea, 
widely  prevalent,  that  some  time,  not  now,  in  the  dim 
future,  the  destiny  of  Canada  and  the  United  States 
will  bo  one.  And  if  one  will  let  his  imagination  run 
a  little,  he  cannot  but  feel  an  exultation  in  the  con- 
templation of  the  majestic  power  and  consequence  in 
the  world  such  a  nation  would  be,  bounded  by  three 
oceans  and  the  Gulf,  united  under  a  restricted  federal 
head,  with  free  play  for  the  individuality  of  every 
State.  If  this  ever  comes  to  pass,  the  tendency  to  it 
will  not  be  advanced  by  threats,  by  unfriendly  legis- 
lation, by  attempts  at  conquest.  The  Canadians  are 
as  high-spirited  as  we  are.  Any  sort  of  union  that  is 
of  the  least  value  could  only  come  by  free  action  of 
the  Canadian  people,  in  a  growth  of  business  interests 
undisturbed  by  hostile  sentiment.  And  there  could 
be  no  greater  calamity  to  Canada,  to  the  United 
States,  to  the  English-speaking  interest  in  the  world, 
than  a  collision.  Nothing  is  to  be  more  dreaded  for 
its  effect  upon  the  morals  of  the  people  of  the  United 
States  than  any  war  with  any  taint  of  conquest  in  it. 
There  is,  no  doubt,  with  many,  an  honest  preference 
for  the  colonial  condition.    I  have  heard  this  said: 


Comments  on  Canada. 


48B 


"  We  have  the  best  govchiracnt  in  the  world,  a  Vespon- 
Bible  government,  with  entire  local  freedom.  England 
exercises  no  sort  of  control ;  we  are  as  free  as  a  natidn 
can  be.  Wo  have  in  the  representative  of  the  Crown 
a  certain  conservative  tradition,  and  it  only  costs  us 
ten  thousand  pounds  a  year.  Wo  are  free,  we  have 
little  expense,  and  if  we  get  into  any  difficulty  there 
is  the  mighty  power  of  Great  Britain  behind  us  !" 
It  is  as  if  one  should  say  in  life,  I  have  no  responsi- 
bilities; I  have  a  protector.  Perhaps  as  a  "  rebel,"  I 
am  unable  to  enter  into  the  colonial  state  of  mind. 
But  the  boy  is  never  a  man  so  long  as  he  is  dependent. 
There  was  never  a  nation  great  until  it  came  to  the 
knowledge  that  it  had  nowhere  in  the  world  to  go  for 
help. 

In  Canada  to-day  there  is  a  growing  feeling  for  in- 
dependence ;  very  little,  taking  the  whole  mass,  for 
annexation.  Put  squarely  to  a  popular  vote,  it  would 
make  little  show  in  the  returns.  Among  the  minor 
causes  of  reluctance  to  a  union  are  distrust  of  the 
Government  of  the  United  States,  coupled  with  the 
undoubted  belief  that  Canada  has  the  better  govern- 
ment; dislike  of  our  quadrennial  elections;  the  want 
of  a  system  of  civil  service,  with  all  the  turmoil  of 
our  constant  official  overturning  ;  dislike  of  our  sensa- 
tional and  irresponsible  journalism,  tending  so  often 
to  recklessness;  and  dislike  also,  very  likeh%  of  the 
very  r.ssertivo  spirit  wliicli  has  made  us  so  rapidly 
subdue  our  continental  possessions. 

But  if  one  would  forecast  the  future  of  Canada,  he 
needs  to  take  a  wider  view  than  personal  preferences 
or  the  agitations  of  local  parties.  The  railway  devel- 
opment, the  Canadian  Pacific  alone,  has  changed  with- 


i 


^84 


Comments  on  Canada. 


in  five  years  the  prospects  of  the  jx^Htical  situation. 
It  has  brought  topjether  the  widely  stparated  prov- 
inces, and  has  given  a  new  impulse  to  the  Hiiitirnent 
of  nationality.  It  has  produced  a  sort  of  unity  which 
no  Act  of  Parliament  could  ever  create.  J  Jut  it  has 
done  more  than  this :  it  has  chanfjcd  the  relation  of 
England  to  Canada.  The  Dominion  is  felt  to  he  u 
much  more  important  part  of  the  British  Empire  than 
it  was  ten  years  ago,  and  in  England  within  less  than 
ten  years  there  has  been  a  revolution  in  colonial  policy. 
With  a  line  of  fast  steamers  from  the  British  Islands 
to  Halifax,  with  lines  of  fast  steamers  from  A'ancouvcr 
to  Yokohama,  IIong-Kong,  and  Australia,  with  an  all- 
rail  transit,  within  British  limits,  through  an  empire 
of  magniticent  capacities,  offering  homes  for  any  pos- 
sible British  overflow,  will  England  regard  Canada  as 
a  weakness  ?  It  is  true  that  on  this  continent  the  day 
of  dynasties  is  over,  and  that  the  jteople  will  deter- 
mine their  own  place.  But  there  are  great  commer- 
cial forces  at  work  that  cannot  be  ignored,  which  seem 
strong  enough  to  keep  Canada  for  a  long  time  on  her 
present  line  of  development  in  a  British  connection. 


THE    END. 


THEIR  PILGRIMAGE. 

By  Chaiilks  Dudmcy  Waiinkh.  liirlily  Illustrated  by 
C.  S.  Kkiniiaut.  pp.  viil.,  364.  8vo,  Half  Lt-atlier. 
12  00. 


A!»i<le  riom  llie  (IcIIcIoiih  f«tt>ry— Its  wnndrrriil  portrmtiires  of  chor- 
nctcr  aiul  iu  diiiniatic  (levflnpiiuMit— tlii!  bimk  Is  pii'iioiis  lo  nil  \vhi> 
know  iiintliiii;;  nboiit  tho  ".'iimI  Aincricikn  wiitciiiii;.pliic«'?',  Tor  it  coii- 
tiiiiiH  iiiconiparabiu  descriptions  or  tlin8e  rairiouM  I'u.sojts  anil  their 
fiocpiciitc'is.  Even  wiilimit  tlii'  aid  of  Mi.  Uoiniiart's  Inilliant  draw 
in;,'n,  Mr.  SVarnt-r  conjures  up  wurd-pictines  of  Capo  May,  Newport, 
t<ai.;ti>;ja,  I/»l»(?  (Jeoru'o,  Iticlitlcld  Spriiii;s,  Niai;«ra,  the  Wliiti;  Monnt- 
iiins,  and  ail  tlio  rest,  wiiicli  siriiie  ilie  eye  lilic  piiiiloi;raplis, so  clear 
Ib  every  ontliiic.  Uui  >(r.  Upinliart's  de^'ii^nn  tit  into  the  lext  «o 
closely  that  wo  could  not  hear  to  part  wiili  a  hin:,'le  one  of  tliein. 
'"Their  l*ii;iriina):e"  ix  destined,  I'or  an  indetinile  succession  oT  sum- 
mers, to  he  a  rulin'.j  favorite  with  all  vi-^iiora  of  Hie  niotintalns,  the 
heaclicH,  and  tlic  spas. — .V.  Y.  Jimnutl  <>/  Cmumvrff. 

Tlie  author  touches  thiM.anvas  here  and  thete  with  liue^4  of  color 
that  t\x  and  identify  American  character.  Heroin  is  tho  real  charm 
for  tliose  who  like  it  hest,  .niid  for  this  one  may  aiuicipato  that  it  will 
be  one  of  the  prominent  IxKdvs  if  the  time,  of  the  fancy  and  humor 
of  Mr.  Warner,  which  in  witchery  of  their  play  and  power  are  fpiite 
independent  of  this  or  that  subject,  theie  is  nothiii;;  to  add.  Hut  ac- 
knowledijineiit  is  due  Mr.  Keinhai  t  for  nearly  eijjlity  rtnely  conceived 
drawiiijjs. — lloHtun  (wlnlte. 

No  more  entiMtainini;  travellin;?  companions  f  ir  a  tour  of  plensiire 
resorts  could  be  wislied  for  than  those  who  in  Mr.  Warm-r's  paL'es 
chat  nnd  laiivh,  and  skim  the  cream  of  all  the  enjoyment  to  be  found 
from  Mount  \Vasliin;jton  to  the  Sulphur  Spi  iiii:s.  .  .  .  His  pen-pictur«'s 
of  the  clmract«r8  typical  of  each  resort,  of  tlie  manner  of  life  IoHowimI 
lit  each,  of  tho  humor  and  absurdities  peculiar  to  .*<aratoj;u,  or  New- 
port, or  liar  Harbor,  as  iIk;  case  may  be,  are  as  •rood-natiired  as  they 
are  clever.  The  t-alirp,  wlieii  there  is  any,  is  of  the  mildest, and  the 
>;eiieral  tone  is  that  of  one  ^;lad  to  look  on  the  brij^htest  nide  tif  the 
cheerful,  pleasure-seekiiii;  world  with  whicli  he  miMjjIes.  .  .In  Mr 
Iteinhart  the  autlior  has  an  assistant  who  has  done  with  his  |)encil 
almost  exactly  what  Mr.  Warner  has  uccotnplished  with  his  pen.— 
Chrintian  Union,  N.  Y. 


Plbi.isiikd  hy  IIAUrEIl  &  imOTHEU-S  Nkw  Yokk. 

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By  W.  D.  IIOWELLS. 

MODERN  ITALIAN  POETS.    Essnvs  nnd  Versions.    Willi 
Portraits,     rjmo,  Hall" Cloth,  fJ  00. 

APRIL  HOPES.     13mo,  Cloth,  »1  50. 
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THE  MOUSE-TRAP,  and  Other  Farces.     Illustrated.    ISmo, 
Cloth,  II  00. 


A  portrollo  of  delijjhtsomn  Htiidifls  nmong  the  Itnllnn  poets ;  mns- 
iii;;H  III  n  t^ohluii  );raiinry  full  to  the  brim  with  kdikI  tliini;i>.  .  .  .  We 
veiitnro  to  nay  that  iiu  aciiio  and  peiiutratiii!;  ciitic  piii'|in8!'eB  Mi 


IlowellD  ill  tniu  iiiHl^lit,  ill  iiolixlicd  iroiiv.  In  efTertivo  and  yet  uiaceriil 
treatment  (iriiW  theme,  In  Unit  liulit  and  iii<lef<criliahle  touch  that  HHm 
yon  over  a  whole  hcn  of  froth  inuT  fonni,  and  tlxeti  yoiir  eye,  not  on  tlio 


frotli  and  fiuim,  bat  on  the  solid  objects,  the  true  hcait  nnd  soul  uf  the 
theme.— rvi7»>,  N.  Y. 

A  more  companionable,  entertaining,  dlimulntinp  work  than  thin 
bonk  has  not  been  printed  for  many  n  diiy.  It  Is  a  book  to  l)e  studied 
lirlvattdy,  to  be  leiid  aloud,  lo  bo  eberixhed  and  quoted  nnd  reread 
many  limef,  and  every  reader  of  It  will  cry  for  iiioie  tranclatliins  from 
the  Italian  by  the  enme  (hMijiht-coiiferilMg  pen.— C/iicn7o  Tribune. 

Tills  is  a  ni>ble  volume,  the  fruit  of  otadies  bewail  t\venty  yenrs  ng'» 
In  Italy. .  .  .The  (<nb.iect  la  diHciiHticd  with  ail  the  rare  faBciiiatioii  *t 
style  and  thoii<;ht  which  Mr.  lloweliis  Is  mo  well  qnalifled  to  bring  to  It, 
mid  the  V(dume  will  be  trensiired  by  every  lover  of  poetry  of  whutever 
period  or  clime.  — r/i)i/(^?«»i  at  )f'ork,  N.  Y. 

No  living  writer  could  give  us  thlH  picture  of  n  literary  movement 
with  f^uch  delicacy  of  appreciation  nnd  discrimination.  Tlie  ])criiid 
emlnaced  In  iiboiit  a  century;  the  names  selected  comiii'i.''e  ull  tlio 
po('tH  wliicli  a  Hiirvcy  of  the  movement,  now  t>ver,  dibtiiiguislies  as 
principal  factors  In  ll.—Hart/ord  Courant. 


"April  Hopes"  Is  a  specimen  of  Mr.  llnwellx's  well-known  consnm* 
mate  art  nx  a  delineator  of  young  men  and  maidens,  and  a  clii'onicler 
of  nil  the  fluctuations  of  love  nfTaiiP.  From  the  life-like  description  of 
Harvard  Class  Day  and  its  participants,  In  the  opening  cbupter^,  to  the 
ronclnsion  of  the  story,  Jlr.  Howells  is  at  his  best.— A',  i'.  Journal  c/ 
Comriiercc. 

Mr.  HowelU  never  wrote  a  more  bewllcliing  bonk.  It  is  useless  to 
deny  the  rarity  and  worth  of  tiie  skill  that  can  report  so  jierfectly  nnd 
with  such  ex(piislte  humor  all  the  fugacious  nnn  manifold  cinotiuiis 
yftho  niodeni  maiden  and  her  Uivvw—J'hiUidelpliia  Praia. 


rrnMsiiED  BY  HARPER  &  IIROTIIEIIS,  New  Yohk. 

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Talks.     Post  bvo.  Cloth,  Extni,  iftl  00. 


VIKGINIA    OF    VIRGINIA. 

Post  8vo,  Cloth.  E.xtra,  ifri  00. 


A  Story.     Illustrated. 


One  Is  permitted  to  discover  qiiiilltloii  of  mind  niid  a  prnflcieiicy  mid 
c:)|)a('ity  ill  Hit  rront  wliicii  somuthin^  new  and  distinctively  tlic  wotk 
of^'eiilii.*  inny  lio  iiiillclpnted  In  Anieiliaii  litt'iiituie.— /^)^^)»»  (ilnhe. 

Mi«4  liivcs  liiix  iina};innllciii,  lircadtli,  and  n  daring;  niid  courage 
ofii'iu'st  cpiilien  of  as  ma^<clllllle.  Moreover,  clio  l;*  fxipilitltely  poet- 
ical, and  licr  ideils*,  witii  nil  the  misliiipi  of  tier  delineation.'',  aiu  of  an 
exulted  order .V.  1'.  Star. 

It  was  iilllo  mure  itian  two  years  a;;i)  tiial  Miss  Hives  made  lier  flrst 
literary  coiKpu'i^t,  n  conqnest  ho  complete  and  ngtoni.-<iiii)<;  as  at  once 
to  ;;ivti  iicr  fame.  How  weii  slie  lias  sustained  and  added  tu  tlie  repti- 
tiition  hIic  bo  snddenly  won,  we  ull  iviiow,  and  the  permnneucy  of  thst 
repntatioii  deiiKiiiHtrates  coii(;lii!<ive1y  ttiat  tier  success  did  nut  depend 
upon  the  iticlfy  strii<in^  of  a  popular  fancy,  lint  that  it  rests  upon  en- 
during qnalities  tliat  are  dcvelupin<;  more  and  more  richly  year  by 
year,  —liich mond  Stale. 

It  is  evident  that  the  author  tins  imagination  in  an  iinusnal  degree, 
iiiucii  strengtli  o)' expression,  and  t-liiii  in  deliiiealiu^  character. — liot- 
(iin  Journat. 

Tlierc  are  few  young  writers  who  begin  a  promising  career  with  so 
much  sjiontnneiiy  and  cliarm  of  expression  as  is  disjihiyed  by  Miss 
Hives.— /.,i7e)«),!/  World,  lln.'itoji. 

Tlie  trait  whicli  ttio  aiitlior  seems  to  take  the  most  jileasnre  in  de- 
picting is  tlie  passionate  loyalty  of  a  girl  to  her  lover  or  of  a  young 
wife  to  her  lin.oband,  and  her  portrayal  of  tiiis  trait  bus  feelini;,  and  is 
set  ofl"  liy  an  uuconventioual  Bfyle  and  brisk  movement.— 77ie  Hook 
Dnyer,  N.  Y. 

There  is  such  a  wealth  of  imagination,  sucii  nu  exulierance  of  strik- 
ing lauguagc  in  the  productions  of  this  autlior,  as  to  attract  and  hold 
llie  reader.— jTo/ecio  lilade. 

Miss  Hives  is  esscntialiy  a  teller  of  love  stories,  and  relates  thciii 
with  sucli  simple,  straightforward  grace  that  slie  at  once  captures  tlie 
sympathy  and  interest  of  tlie  reader.  .  .  .  There  is  a  freshness  of  leeling 
and  a  mingling  of  pathos  and  humor  whicli  arc  simply  delicious.— ..Veic 
London  Telegraph. 


Plbmshed  by  harper  &  BROTHERS,  New  Yohk. 

IlAiiPKn  &  Broth  Kits  will  send  either  of  the  abone  works  by  mail, 
postage  prepaid,  to  any  2'art  of  the  United  States  or  Canada,  on 
receipt  of  the  price. 


By  CONSTANCE  F.  WOOLSON. 

EAST  ANGELS,     pp.  592.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

ANNE.     Illustrated,    pp.  540.     lOmo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

FOR  THE  MAJOR,    pp.  208.    16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

CASTLE    NOWHERE,     pp.  380.     IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 
(.^1  Now  Edition.) 


RODMAN  THE  KEEPER.     Southern  Sketches. 
'  MO.     IGmo,  Cloth,  $1  00.     (.1  Ncic  Edition.) 


pp. 


There  is  a  certnin  bright  cheerriilness  in  Miss  Woolson's  writing 
'.vhich  invests  all  her  characters  with  lovable  qualities. — Jeioish  Advo- 
cate, N.  Y. 

Miss  Woolson  is  nmoiig  our  Tew  successful  writers  of  interesting 
niaj^nziiie  stories,  and  iior  t^lvill  and  power  are  i)orce|)til)le  in  the  de- 
lineation of  her  lieroincs  no  less  than  in  the  suggestive  pictures  of 
local  Ute.— Jewish  Mesitemier,  N.  Y. 

Constance  Fcnimove  Woolson  may  easily  become  the  norelist 
laureate.— iio.s^on  Globe, 

Miss  Woolson  lias  a  graceful  fauc)',  a  ready  wit,  a  polished  style,  and 
conspicuous  dramatic  power;  while  her  skill  in  the  development  of  a 
story  is  very  remarkable. — Lomlon  Life. 

Miss  Woolson  never  once  follows  the  beaten  track  of  the  orthodox 
novelist,  but  strikes  n  new  and  richly  loaded  vein,  which  so  far  is  all 
her  own ;  and  thus  we  feel,  on  reading  one  of  her  works,  a  fiesh  sen- 
sation, and  wc  put  down  tiie  book  with  a  sigh  to  think  our  pleasant 
task  of  reading  it  is  finished.  The  author's  lines  must  have  fallen  to 
her  in  very  pleasant  places;  or  she  has,  perhaps,  within  herself  the 
wealth  of  womanly  love  and  tenderness  she  pours  so  freely  into  all 
she  writes.  Such  bool;s  as  hers  do  much  to  elevate  the  moral  tone  of 
the  day— a  quality  sadly  wanting  iu  novels  of  the  time  — Whitehall 
Review,  London. 


PuraisHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  YonK. 

J^~  The  above  works  sent  hy  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the 
United  States  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  price. 


U '  'II ' 


^1  00. 


pp. 


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